Unexpected
by Dyna Dee
Summary: After a rough two years and a very bad day, Duo Maxwell opens his door to an unexpected visitor with an equally unexpected proposition.
1. Chapter 1

**Unexpected**

By: Dyna Dee

Pairings: 1 + 2, for now, 2 + others. Hopefully an eventual 1x2

Rating: M for language

The entire fifteenth floor of the Preventers building fell silent as the argument taking place behind the door of Director Une escalated into a shouting match which lasted no more than 20 seconds. A deafening silence followed as all strained to hear what would happen next. Moments later that same door opened, only to be forcefully slammed shut behind the exiting agent. The young agent's thin chest heaved as he struggled to compose himself.

Wide, curious eyes watched through open doors and around corners as Agent Maxwell stormed down the hallway, his booted footfalls on the waxed linoleum matching the angry expression they'd glimpsed on his face. His pinched, pale features and tightly pressed lips had fellow agents, unfortunate enough to be standing in his way, wisely jumping into the nearest doorway. It was obvious Agent Duo Maxwell was a very unhappy young man.

Reaching the office he shared with his partner of two years, the angry agent flung the door open with enough force that the doorknob bypassed the jab and sunk into the wall. Other than the rise of one dark eyebrow, Heero didn't look surprised by his stormy entrance. Without a word to his partner, Duo continued on to his desk, flung himself into his chair and immediately bent to open the lower drawer. He straightened a moment later with a handful of thumb drives. He selected one, shoved it into the appropriate slot on his computer and proceeded to download his files.

"What did she say?" Heero finally ventured to ask.

"You know damn well what she said," he snapped back, his burning, dark-circled eyes never moving from the screen in front of him.

The Japanese man sighed loudly enough for Duo to hear and said, "It's for your own good."

"Oh shut up."

"Look at you," Heero persisted. "You're falling apart. You're physically and mentally exhausted. You haven't taken a vacation in two years."

"Yeah, well neither have you."

"A vacation isn't relevant in my case."

With eyes blazing with resentment, he looked up from what he was doing to meet Heero's gaze. "Why isn't it 'relevant', Heero? No wait." He threw up a hand to stop the other man from answering. "Let me guess. You're gonna tell me how much more capable you are, how you're able to withstand the rigors of being a Preventers agent better than I can. Or could it be that damn ridiculous conditioning Dr. Fucked-In-The-Head J put you through that makes you superior to the rest of us mere mortals? Of course that's why you don't need a break from the sixty-plus hours we put in every damn week."

Winded after his short tirade, Duo had to pause to catch his breath. And during that long, drawn out moment of tense silence Heero sat motionless, silently watching him. That somehow irritated him even more. "Answer me, Heero. Why isn't it relevant?"

"Why bother answering when you've already stated the obvious?" Heero continued to look at him, completely unaffected by his anger and sour attitude.

Slumping back into his chair, he wearily closed his eyes. Shit, he was tired. He'd done his damn best to keep up, to show Heero he was his equal in a desperate attempt to win the other man's approval. He'd worn himself down to a state of exhaustion just trying to keep up with the indefatigable agent.

It was all true, his earlier ranting. Heero, by training, enhancements and natural ability, had more mental and physical strength than seemed humanly possible. Truth be told, he resented Heero almost as much as he admired him. There he sat, the perfect example for all Preventers to aspire to, dressed in his crisply ironed uniform with the glow of health on his face and sharp alertness in his eyes. Heero was always ready for anything, at any time.

In contrast, Duo was well aware of his own disheveled state. His clothes were anything but pristine or neatly ironed. With all the hours he put in at work every day, it was nearly impossible to find time for mundane chores such as laundry.

The quick appraisal he'd given his reflection in the bathroom mirror that morning had been somewhat shocking. What he saw looking back at him was a physically worn down 19-year old with dull, dark circled eyes over prominent cheekbones, a result of weight loss. His face was, as usual, was stubbled from at least three-day's growth of beard. And his poor neglected hair, hastily pulled into a sloppy braid, had broken strands sticking out everywhere. No doubt about it, he was a mess, inside and out. No wonder Sally had called him in for a unscheduled and thorough physical the day before. The results of that exam had led to the unpleasant meeting with Director Une moments ago.

He wondered, admittedly a bit late, why Sally had waited until now to call him into the medical unit. The good doctor was usually too busy to track someone down for a surprise physical.

The answer to his question popped into his mind. Straightening in his chair, he slanted an accusing look at his partner. "You talked to Sally, didn't you? That's why I was called in for the physical yesterday."

There was a pause before his partner answered, "Your present condition impedes your performance." Heero's cool, professional tone surprised him. It was usually reserved for dealing with his superiors or subordinates, not his best friend.

Then Heero took a deep breath and his face softened a bit as he continued more gently. "You're obviously not well, Duo, and haven't been for months. When Une asked me about your mental and physical state, my lying to cover up the truth would not have been in your best interest. She's the one who spoke to Poe, not me."

Duo looked away, undecided about whether the look in the other man's deep blue eyes was concern or disappointment. Probably a bit of both. "Sometimes it's really hard to like you, Heero."

It was a phrase he'd often used when teasing the other former gundam pilot, but this time he wasn't joking. He refused to look or speak to Heero until he finished copying his case files. Removing the final thumb drive from the computer, he set it in a inter-office envelope with the other five and sealed the flap. Shutting down and closing his laptop, he carefully stashed it in its case, then set the thick strap over his drooping shoulder and moved towards Heero's desk. With a flick of his wrist he tossed the envelope onto the uncluttered desktop and watched it slide across the smooth surface until it stopped in front of the other man.

"What's this?" Heero asked, frowning with confusion as he picked the envelope up.

"My notes on current cases. Give them to your new partner."

Heero's face displayed a rare expression of confusion. "You're my partner."

"Not anymore."

The deep-blue eyes widened momentarily with surprise, then narrowed to a glare. "What do you mean? Une told me she was going to insist you take your vacation time, effectively forcing you to rest, since you won't do it on your own."

"She termed it a leave of absence," Duo snapped. "After telling me I had no choice in the matter, I told her where she could take her leave and to make my absence permanent. I'm cashing out my unused vacation and sick days to pay my bills until I can get another job."

Heero abruptly stood from his seat, his face wore a rare expression of alarm. "There's been some mistake, a misunderstanding."

He felt an odd, perverse feeling of satisfaction washed over him at Heero's distress. "She told me not to come back until I got my shit together. You know better than anyone, Heero, that my shit has never totally been 'together'." "Duo..."

"Stop. Please," he pleaded wearily.

If he kept this conversation up any longer, he might embarrass himself further by doing a face plant on the floor. Besides, there was just a little bit of guilt hanging over his head for leaving Heero to deal with a new partner. The guy had issues with trusting other people, not to mention working with them.

But the decision to quit had already been made and there was nothing more to be done about it. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for walking away from a steady income and working with the best of the best.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he said, "Guess I'll see ya around."

He turned and moved slowly and deliberately towards the door. The weariness that had plagued him for so long felt even worse after the morning's emotional outbursts. He felt and probably moved like a very old man.

As he reached the door, Heero called out softly. "I'll be over Friday with pizza and a movie. The usual time?"

Pausing at the door, he heaved a resigned sigh he shook his head. Without looking back he answered, "Don't bother. I'm gonna sleep for a week straight then try to figure out what comes next. Right now, I'm just too damn tired to think. I'm just done, Heero. Done with everything."

The room fell silent, and it was just too much for him to resist glancing over his shoulder for a last look at his partner. Heero was standing behind his desk, a deep crease had formed between his eyebrows. He was probably trying to form a response to his parting statement. Honestly, what could he say? As far as Duo was concerned, his leaving was a done deal.

Before Heero could voice an argument for him to reconsider, he stepped out office, closed the door gently behind him, and then began the long walk to the elevator.

Why did each step he took away from the shared office feel labored, like his feet were mired in a mud swamp? He knew that sensation very well, from a assignment he'd had the year before. It had been a wet, muddy and miserable week trudging the Florida swamps for an arms dealer. Mud. He seriously hated slogging through the stuff.

The path ahead, leading to the elevator and joblessness, seemed to stretch out endlessly before him. Damn he was tired and numb with exhaustion, and more so after his arguing with Une a mere two hours after clocking in that morning.

The top psycho of Preventers had blindsided him that morning with a note left on his desk, commanding him to report to her office at ten a.m. He experienced a bad feeling about meeting with Une, but there had been little choice but to show up and play nice.

Once the door to her office closed, and he'd taken the offered chair, and then the boss lady had looked at him, a good long, uncomfortable and scrutinizing look. Then in her usual serious manner, she bluntly stated her concern for his well being. She'd read the results of his physical along with Dr. Poe's recommendation, which she agreed with. The well intentioned doctor had recommended he take at least eight weeks off from work. Une had checked with H.R, and informed him he had enough vacation time to cover two months.

Of course he'd refused, adamantly, more or less forcing Une to order a forced leave of absence so that he could regain his health and some perspective.

Perspective. God did he need some of that. He wasn't really surprised by her recommendation to rest, but he'd always hated being told what to do. Added to that, he felt a bit betrayed by the whole situation. Finding himself backed up against a bureaucratic wall, his knee-jerk response had been to quit Preventers altogether, and in a fairly loud and dramatic way. Yet now that he'd cooled down, he was a little embarrassed about the whole thing.

At last the end of the hallway was near, and his energy level felt to be at an all time low. Was it too much to hope he could make it home before collapsing? Hell, wouldn't that be embarrassing, to pass out in the hallway or elevator from exhaustion, proving Poe and Une right? Hell no. He refused to give them the satisfaction. He straightened his spine, held his head up, if just barely, and worked hard at picking up his feet in an attempt to look strong while leaving the building. He would make it to the parking garage and then pass out if necessary in Heero's car, seeing as how he had the extra key. But he'd be damned if passed out or looked weak in front of his fellow agents.

Closing in on the elevator, it hit him that he was leaving the building for the last time. Surprisingly, the thought didn't upset him as much as he thought it would. Maybe after sleeping a few days he'd be able to think about his next move, but right now all he wanted was to be gone from the place and on his way home.

Sensing the eyes of his co-workers on him as he passed their open doorways, he glanced up to see several dart out of sight, obviously trying to avoid him. He really couldn't blame them. All around, it was an awkward situation. No doubt the entire floor had overheard his argument with Une, since her office was close by. News traveled fast in this organization, especially gossip. His arguing with the top boss and quitting would be all over the building in another five minutes. Good thing he'd be gone by then.

He was now only a few feet from the elevator. Unfortunately, there was no choice but to pass in front of the last office door, which was open. It belonged to Milliardo Peacecraft. It was no secret to anyone in the building that the two long-haired Preventers did not get along. They usually solved that problem by staying as far away from each other as humanly possible. Today, however, the tall, blond aristocratic couldn't help getting in one last jibe.

"Need a hand getting to your vehicle, Maxwell? I'm sure I can find someone to make sure you don't stumble and hurt yourself." The snide tone of Peacecraft's voice would not be lost on anyone with the ability to hear.

Stopping mid stride, Duo took in a fortifying breath before backing up a few steps to peer through the open doorway at his nemesis. Peacecraft was sitting behind the desk wearing his usual snide smile. He noted that Agent Fart-on-the-Wind, as he often referred to him, was entertaining a recognizable visitor, Dorothy Catalonia. The young woman stood just inside the office door wearing an expensive looking pant suit of pale blue, her long pale gold hair draped over her left shoulder. From the lopsided grin on her face it appeared she was enjoying the show. Maybe he'd indulge her a bit more.

"Here's a memo you obviously didn't get, _Zechs_. There's a petition going around the building asking that you quit using the mask you wore during the war as a urinal. Your office stinks of royal shit."

The blond man shot to his feet, his smile instantly replaced by an outraged, murderous scowl. A very non-regal tirade of explosive expletives were aimed at him. The man was an amateur when it came to swearing, Duo thought. Honestly, Peacecraft had no sense of humor.

Satisfied with having gotten a good rise out of the idiot, he resumed his path to the elevator, ignoring the other man's continuing rant. Everyone in the building knew better than to call Peacecraft the moniker he'd gone by during the war, Zechs Marquis. After the war, the lost Prince of Sanq resumed the name Milliardo Peacecraft, but renounced his royal title to avoid being denounced by the new pacifist, Sanq government. That decision was probably the only smart move the man had made since quitting OZ.

By the time the insulted, red-faced man made his way around the desk and to the hallway, he could only stand with clinched fists and watch with frustration as the elevator doors began to close. Duo forced a smirk and gave the other man a middle-finger salute. As the doors inched closed, Dorothy Catalonia's laughter could be heard above the insulted man's growled threat. It looked like he'd been wrong; it seemed someone of the upper class had a sense of humor after all.

TBC

Author's note: Yeah, I know, I can't believe it either. It's been ages since I posted anything. I've had this sitting in my files forever, along with a couple of other stories I'm still working on. Pardon me, please, I'm a bit rusty at this, but with a little help from my friends I hope to get the story sorted out. This story was meant to be the beginning of an on-going series, but with little time available, I know I probably won't get past this introduction. I would like to extend an open invitation to anyone interested in picking up the next or any following chapters. So, if after reading this story to it's end and you'd like to add to it, contact me for a general idea of where I was going with the plot.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I forgot this on the first part. Of course you know, I don't own GW or make any profit other than enjoyment from writing about these characters.

Unexpected

By: Dyna Dee

Part 2

After two quick stops, one to a pharmacy and the second a convenience store, the now ex-Preventer continued on to his apartment complex in an exhausted daze. After stowing his motorcycle in the garage, he dragged himself up the stairs to his fourth floor flat.

Man he was beat.

Honestly, he wasn't the complete idiot the doctor had accused him of being. He knew beforehand what Sally's assessment of the ordered physical would be. But it still stung when she'd called him a wreck and declared he was only a day or two away from having a physical and/or emotional breakdown.

Pushing himself beyond his limits was simply something he'd had to do from the moment he'd joined Preventers. It had been an absolute necessity in keeping up with Mr. Indefatigable Yuy.

Damn it, why hadn't G given him the training and medical enhancements Dr. J had given Heero? His partner was a freak of sorts, never getting sick, easily working sixty plus hours a week while performing and looking like it was a Monday morning. Then there was his freakin' mind. Heero was always clear and focused. He didn't have to think long before coming up with some amazing analysis. It was like the guy was a damn computer or something. Why the hell did Heero never seem distracted by mundane things like food or sleep?

With great effort he reached the fourth floor landing. The relief he felt for making it to the front of the door of his apartment made his knees weak. He paused a moment, leaning against the wall in order to catch his breath. Was he pathetic, or what? He'd only climbed four levels of stairs, not Mount Everest. Closing his eyes for just a moment, he wondered why he'd ever thought renting an apartment in a building without an elevator was a good thing? True, the rent was cheap, but still.

Breathing was a bit better now. Une was right, he thought. Not only was he out of shape, but he was also dangerously weak. His own opinion was a different word altogether. Pathetic.

The ordered medical exam confirmed what Heero and their friends had been harping about for quite a while: that he was rundown and nearing a breakdown, physically and possibly mentally. They had voiced their worry over his weight loss and apparent physical exhaustion, insisting their concerns were justified after Heero let it slip that his job performance had been less than satisfactory.

That comment, uttered in Heero's usual report voice, had felt like a punch in the gut from the guy he trusted more than anyone. He'd been embarrassed and angry with his partner, and didn't speak to him for two weeks after because of it. As usual, Heero hardly noticed. Asshole.

The pills Sally had prescribed rattled in the pocket of his jacket as he fumbled around for his keys. Without much trouble he pulled them out and managed to open the door of his apartment. He stepped inside with a relieved sigh. After shutting the door firmly behind him, he dropped his keys onto the stack of unopened mail on table next to the door, then pulled the prescription bottles out of his pocket and studied them.

One container housed little white pills that would help him sleep. The other, multiple vitamins with added iron, which were supposed to help build up his body and blood. With the increase in vitamins, a proper diet and rest, the good doctor promised he would recover within a matter of weeks. Sally had ordered him to go home, take his prescriptions and go to bed.

Would she be pleased after learning he'd quit Preventers? He supposed she would, seeing he was just one more problem she could check off her list. It could be he'd done her a favor by quitting as it pretty much guaranteed he wouldn't be returning for the follow-up appointment in three weeks.

With both pill bottles clutched in his hand, his bag of groceries in the other, he trudged to the slightly-worn but comfortable plaid sofa and flopped down onto it in a boneless sprawl. After a couple of deep breaths, he thought about closing his eyes and not moving for a week. But no, he had something to do first. Forcing himself to sit up, he slipped his laptop case off his shoulder and placed it on the floor. The pill containers went to the coffee table. Then with a grunt of effort he got to his feet again and carried the bag of groceries into the kitchen.

Fortunately for him the pharmacy had been located close to a small convenience store. If not for that, he'd be really cranky... that is if he could drum up the energy to be cranky.

From the bag he removed a large bag of potato chips, a box of cookies and can of salted nuts, all of which he placed on the counter top. From the bottom of the bag came the cold six pack of bottled beer; the perfect complement to his junk food cuisine. Picking out a bottle from the carrying container with his left hand, he reached into the drawer next to the sink with his right and removed a bottle opener. The cap was popped off with little effort, and raising the bottle to his lips he toasted, "Here's to joblessness."

Taking a deep breath, he knocked back a couple of long swallows of the brew, lowering the bottle only to catch his breath. He then set the cold glass against his sweaty, aching forehead. Damn but that felt good. He took another, longer swig, and then another. Yeah, it wasn't the smarted thing to do, drinking a beer before noon on a workday. But to him it was a symbolic gesture, of giving the finger to Preventers and their strict code of conduct.

"Screw them," he muttered, just before taking another long swallow. Maybe after a couple of bottles he'd forget the whole damn morning. Hell, after polishing off the entire six pack he'd probably forget a whole lot more.

The room began to tilt, just slightly. Hum... maybe Sally was onto something, advising him to refrain from alcohol. She said his body wouldn't handle it well in its weakened state. Maybe soda would have been a better choice. He shrugged. Too late now. He was definitely on his way to getting slightly buzzed, which was his own prescription for the shitty day.

Putting the remainder of the beer in the refrigerator, he snatched a second bottle before closing the door. He then grabbed the bottle opener and the bag of potato chips and headed back to the living room and the sofa. He'd take his pills later, after lunch.

The first bottle of beer was three quarters finished when he set it down with a satisfied sigh. He reached for the remote to his television, turned it on and began to scan the channels, one after another. With mounting disgust, he wondered what the hell did people watched during the day?

By the time the second bottle was empty, he'd settled on the Home Shopping Channel. He was seriously considering the merits of the All-In-One Handyman tool that "No household should be without." It was a pretty cool tool. He was about to reach for his phone to order when a knock sounded on his door.

"Who the hell is that?" he mumbled, and debated whether he should bother getting up and answer, or simply ignore the intrusion. Maybe the person on the other side would just go away.

The knock sounded again. It was soft, almost... polite, and similar to Quatre's knock. He was pretty sure his rich pal was on L4. No way could he have heard about his blowout with Une and had time to show up at his door to rescue him. Yeah, that would be just like Quatre. Showing up to bail his ass out of trouble. Nah, it couldn't be Winner, he decided. Still, his curiosity was piqued. Who the hell would be knocking on his door in the middle of the day, a time of day he was never, ever home?

Grunting again as he got up from the sofa, he noticed his steps were a bit wobbly. Was it a result of the beer or just his being so damn tired? He forgot all about that question by the time he reached the door. He turned the knob, threw it open and froze. On his doorstep was the last person on the planet he expected to see.

Dorothy stood outside Duo Maxwell's door, her heart pounding in her chest, her hands felt embarrassingly clammy. Twisting the golden fastener of her small beige purse she opened it and pulled out a delicate handkerchief and began vigorously rubbing the moisture from her palms. Satisfied they were dry, she folded the cloth neatly and placed it back into the purse and closed it once again.

She wondered for a moment if perhaps she was losing her mind, considering what she was about to do. She left Preventers right after Mr. Maxwell with the intention of following him home. Her driver had preformed adequately, but they almost lost track of the man when he stopped at a couple of businesses on the way home. She'd simply placed a phone call and quickly acquired his home address. Supplying the address to her driver, he'd driven her here and they'd parked on the side street, hoping not to be seen. They waited in the car until Mr. Maxwell drove into the lower parking garage. And now here she was, standing outside his front door and beginning to lose her nerve.

None of that, now, she mentally scolded herself. What would grandfather think to see her hesitating, almost shaking in her designer shoes at the thought of the reception she might receive from the man on the other side of the door? Well, Duo Maxwell wasn't just any man. He had been a Gundam pilot, and surely that fact would cause even her grandfather to think twice about approaching him. But no, grandfather would never shrink back from an excellent plan. With that in mind, she straightened her back, lifted her chin just a bit more, took a deep breath and prepared for whatever might follow.

Raising a pale hand, she knocked solidly on the green metal door. Then lowering her arm she waited. Several moments later, the door opened and she was greeted by the former Deathscythe pilot. He was not tall, only minutely taller than herself, but he was a handsome devil, she thought. Even with the dark circles under his eyes, which happened to be a remarkable combination of blue and violet, and his haggard appearance couldn't take away from his natural good looks and appeal. She had to restrain herself from smiling at the expression of genuine shock on his face, which quickly disappeared when his expression turned sour.

Lifting his forearm to rest casually on the doorframe, the tired looking young man drawled with an American accent, "Well, well, well. What brings you to my humble abode, Missy? Did your social calendar indicate Tuesday as slummin' day?"

She raised one eyebrow in response to his jibe. "I'd hardly call this slumming, Mr. Maxwell," she replied with a demure grin. "You live in a respectable enough neighborhood. I actually had only minimal trouble finding it."

He eyed her suspiciously. They had never had any reason to interact with each other, other than social engagements put on by Relena. No doubt everything he knew about her had come from his former Gundam pilots and maybe even Relena. It was clear by the look on his face that whatever he'd heard about her hadn't left him with any desire to know more.

Granted, Quatre Winner, a true gentleman, would probably not say anything negative against her, even though she'd stabbed him in a duel on board Libra at the end of the first war. Mr. Trowa Barton, on the other hand, usually a very stoic young man, couldn't quite hide the disgust he felt whenever she was near. It was quite upsetting, really.

"What were you doing in Peacecraft's office this morning?" he asked. "You know, people generally judge someone by the company they keep."

"Maybe so, but I can't say I was sorry to be there as I would have missed your farewell salvo, which I found particularly amusing."

"And for that reason alone I'm going to give you two minutes to explain what you're doin' here. For the life of me, I can't think of one single reason why you're standing in my doorway. If you're selling cookies, I don't want any. If you're recruiting an army to take over the world, we've already played that game. So what do you want, Miss Catalonia?"

Determined not to be put off by his less than polite manner, she calmly answered his question. "As you said, I was at Preventers this morning when word of your forced vacation leave was brought to our attention." She smiled at him remember the scene. "You certainly have a way of expressing yourself, Mr. Maxwell, and displayed a certain amount of creativity in saying goodbye to both Director Une and Milliardo."

"What's it to you?" he snapped, clearly losing patience.

She had to wonder if he was leaning against the wall for the sake of looking casual, or if it was for support. The man just didn't look well. "I thought I'd pay you a friendly visit and offer you a sympathetic shoulder to cry on."

"Pfft," he snorted. "Like that's ever gonna happen."

He swayed slightly, and from the overheard conversation with Une, she knew must he truly must be exhausted. He proved her to be right when he wearily said, "Listen, girly, I'm too damn tired to verbally spar with you. Just cut to the chase and tell me what you want. But please, don't bother if you have some elaborate take-over-the-planet scheme going on in that warped little brain of yours. I honestly don't have the energy to care."

Stung by that comment, it took a moment before she could reply quietly. "Touché, Mr. Maxwell. It seems everyone feels entitled to a cheap jibe at my expense, at least once. Consider yourself as having had your turn."

The flash of guilt in his eyes showed her that he didn't mean to hurt her.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to hit below the belt. Everyone has somethin' in their past they aren't proud of, somethin' to be forgiven for. Guess I forgot past lessons about judging. Sorry."

He ran his hand through the long fringe of hair over his forehead. "Listen Dottie, I've had a pretty shitty morning and all I want to do right now is hibernate and inebriate. So spare us both time and energy and just tell me what you really want. Are you here to gloat, rub it in, or what?"

"Commiserate," she replied, surprising him again.

He looked completely confused. "Sorry to tell you, but I've no freakin' idea what you're talking about."

She grinned at him, sensing she'd won him over. So far, so good. "If you'll invite me inside, I'll be happy to explain. I've also come with a proposition in mind."

His eye moved slowly, moving down from her eyes all the way to her toes. "Hate to tell you, Dottie, but I'm just not interested."

She laughed, finding his statement to be extremely amusing instead of insulting. "I've heard you had a sense of humor, Mr. Maxwell. I'm pleased to know that at least some of the rumors about you are true."

Shaking his head, he stepped aside and motioned her into his apartment. "What the hell. I've nothin' better to do."

"That's exactly what I'm counting on," she said as she stepped through the door.

Motioning for her to take a seat on the sofa, he went to the kitchen, grabbed something out of the refrigerator and carried it back into the living room and held it out to her. "A little refreshment?"

She reluctantly reached out and accepted the chilled bottle, followed by the bottle opener. She studied the bottle and wondered if he was trying to poison her. She fumbled a bit before managing to pry the top off her bottle and then handed the opener back to him. He promptly used it to open a bottle for himself. "Cheers," he said, tipping his bottle in her direction.

"Are you certain this is safe to drink?" She looked dubiously down on the open bottle.

He shot her a grin. "Trust me."

Taking a look around the room, she sidestepped her first taste of beer by giving him a compliment, of sorts. "You apartment is quite nice and a lot cleaner than I'd anticipated, for a man living on his own."

"Not all men are slobs," he snorted, then placed the bottle to his lips and tipped it up. "I hardly spend enough time here to make a huge mess." Then taking several more swallows, he lowered the bottle and smacked his lips. "Okay, spill. What have you got to commiserate about and what's this proposition?"

Deciding to be brave, she bought the bottle to her lips and took a cautious sip. She couldn't completely hide the grimace nor the shudder that ran through her body as she got a good taste of the beer. She'd never sampled the brew of the working man before and hoped the opportunity wouldn't come around often in the future. Though his eyes were dull with fatigue, there was a sparkle in his eyes that indicated he was amused. To show him she was no faint heart, she quickly took another healthy swallow and her reward was a respectful nod.

With a wrinkled nose she stated, "That's nasty."

"Yeah, it is," he chuckled, "but you get used to it after a while."

She was a bit surprised that this one-time enemy could find anything about her amusing. "Heaven forbid," she replied with a slight grin and put the bottle down on the table. After a moment, she decided it was time to get down to business and her expression sobered. "I'm not sure if you're aware of the fact that shortly after the last war I became Miss Relena's assistant."

"Yeah, rumor has it you were trying to keep a hand in things."

"I've been trying to..." she paused to come up with the proper word, "to make amends. I'm ashamed to admit that during the war I tried my best to manipulate events and people. Relena and her brother were only two on that rather long list."

He almost spit out a mouthful of beer after choking on it mid swallow. "I'd say you did more than just try, Dottie. You were trusted enough by the male member of that famous brother/sister duo that he let you command a shitload of mobile dolls. For a girl with little battle experience, I'm somewhat ashamed to admit you put us through the paces."

She smiled shyly, taking his statement for a compliment. "I might not have had practical battle experience, other than the tactics of sword fighting and playing games of strategy, but I am definitely a byproduct of my genes and upbringing."

"Yeah, I'm well aware of who your grandfather was," he said before taking a rather large swallow from his bottle.

She continued. "For the past two years I've acted as Miss Relena's assistant and faithful advisor, until yesterday."

Raising one eyebrow, he asked, "And what happened yesterday?"

Blushing, Dorothy's eyes lowered. "She let me go."

"She fired you?"

With an exasperated huff she replied coolly, "To put it bluntly, yes, my dearest friend fired me." Once again the pain of rejection flashed though her. "I've been devoted to her, to whatever cause or passion she showed an interest in. And after all I've done she fires me, saying it's for my own good, that I need to pursue new horizons."

"Now I understand the commiserating comment." Duo took another long pull from his bottle, and she figured the bottle must be close to empty by now. Then looking at her thoughtfully he added, "Maybe she's right. You deserve to have a life of your own."

Taking a moment to absorb his comment, she quietly said, "As do you, Mr. Maxwell."

"Listen." He looked slightly irritated now. "If we're going to have more than a five minute conversation, you're going to have to call me Duo, all right?"

"Very well, Duo," she grinned. "And you must call me Dorothy."

"Or something close to it," he muttered, peeling a portion of the label off the bottle in his hand.

Sensing he wasn't going to say anything else, she continued. "You must see that we're not so dissimilar after all. My devotion to Miss Relena could easily be compared to your own selfless duty to Preventers, even to the point of disregarding your own health."

"I had my reasons," he answered, removing what was left of the label. "And I'm sure my reasons are nothing like yours."

"Why?" she asked, genuinely curious. "Do you believe our different economic backgrounds make the reasons for your devotion so different from my own? For myself, I'm trying to atone for past wrongs, of which I can assure you are many. What are you killing yourself over?"

With his eyes focused on the now empty bottle of beer he answered. "Maybe you're right, that we're not so different when it comes to being idiots. So now that we've established that we're both nut cases and out of jobs, what's this proposal? Wanna stand in the unemployment line together?"

"Hardly," she said, looking him squarely in the eyes. "I've decided to make something positive out of this situation. You see, I do need a vacation. And this morning I was actually visiting Milliardo's office in order to say goodbye before departing. I intend to sail out at full tide tonight, going wherever the wind, or my ship's captain, takes me."

Duo raised an eyebrow. "Ship?"

"Actually, my yacht," she clarified. "A good sized one at that. I acquired it as a portion of my inheritance from my Grandfather."

"A portion?"

"A small bit of what I received." She dropped the smile and replaced it with an expression of earnestness. Shifting forward to the edge of the sofa she continued. "I don't particularly enjoy traveling alone, and now that you find yourself with time on your hands, I was hoping you might care to join me?"

"Are you serious?" he blurted out with a weary laugh. "You don't even know me, Dot. Out of all the people you could ask, why me? And what makes you think we'd be able to stand each other after a couple of day pass, trapped on a ship like that?"

"Why not you?" she asked. "I happen to find you and the other pilots fascinating. This may be my only opportunity to become acquainted with a former Gundam pilot. We may have been enemies during the war, Mr. Maxwell, but that doesn't mean I didn't appreciate the dedication and bravery you and the others displayed."

His eyes narrowed. "You stabbed my best friend. Give me one good reason why I would even consider this proposal."

"Have you ever experienced the Zero system, Duo?"

He visibly shuddered at the question. "My one experience with the zero system was less than pleasant. I saw possibilities, different outcomes for the war, for my life, as well as the futures of my fellow pilots. I watched them all die, and witnessed the Earth plunging into an environmental wasteland. I even saw myself dying inside Deathscyth as it burst into flames; and another future where I committed suicide. I was even shown a future working in a junk yard with Hilde on L2, and enjoying life in a world of peace. I even saw the life I now lead, being a part of the Preventers, with Heero... um... as an important part of my life."

She nodded, understanding. Having read the reports, she knew Zero gave multiple outcomes to the pilot. "When Quatre and I dueled, I was still under the influence of a system similar to the one in Wing Zero. As you know, I directed all the mobile dolls during the battles leading up to, and including, the final one." Her vision became unfocused as she envisioned past battles. With a touch of awe in her voice she added, "It was addicting, enthralling. To direct so many armaments in battle was like conducting an intricate symphony or dance. I was drunk with the thrill of battle and feeling powerful."

She paused a moment and a blush of embarrassment crossed her high cheekbones. "I was not in my right mind when I challenged Quatre Winner to a duel. I realized, after he'd left with Mr. Barton, that he had allowed me to injure him in order to bring me out of my Zero induced trance. I've apologized profusely to him, and being an unusually magnanimous individual, he graciously accepted."

After a moment, perhaps thinking over what she'd said, he shrugged. "Well, who am I to hold a grudge? If Quat can let it go, so can I. But just so you know, I don't usually forgive anyone who hurts one of my friends." His eyes narrowed with an unspoken warning as he shook a finger at her. "So don't do it again."

She raised her right hand in a gesture of acquiescence. "I won't. I've given up swords, mobile dolls and control helmets. Cross my heart." She quickly made an invisible mark over her breast and flashed him her pearly white and straight-toothed smile, clearly amused by the whole exchange.

Shaking his head at her antics, he leaned his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes in an attempt to clear his mind. "Alright then, tell me about this trip."

"The beauty of it is that I don't have an itinerary planned. The first leg of the journey, however, is a leisurely sail to Greece to visit some friends. From there, I'm not sure. I guess we'll go wherever my fancy takes me."

Duo's head canted to the side as he reopened his eyes to ask, "How long are you planning to be gone?"

"Haven't decided. A month, two, six? It doesn't matter. I guess I'll come back when I feel better, more confident."

He took a moment before replying, "I can't just take off for an indefinite period of time. Wouldn't that require a lot of money? What about my apartment? My bills?"

"I'm sorry," Dorothy said with a slight shake of her head. "I didn't make myself clear. In exchange for your company I fully intend to cover any overhead costs to you as well as a monetary compensation for being my companion."

"Are you serious?" he asked, obviously startled by the idea.

"All I need is a list of all your expenses, which I'll send to my accountant. I can assure you they will be paid in full and on time. All you need to bring with you is your passport, a fake one, too, if you have one available, so we're not traceable through customs."

"You're out of your mind," he declared, looking flabbergasted. "I can't have you paying my bills."

"Of course you can. Need I remind you that you are now out of work? And it just so happens that I have money enough to match Quatre Winner's accounts. Even if I lived wildly extravagant the rest of my life, the expenditures wouldn't begin to scratch the surface of my fortune. Money isn't everything, Duo. Your friend, Mr. Winner, understands that as well as I. Please remember the purpose of this vacation is to get away from here and relax. I don't relish the idea of going alone, and you obviously need some down time. This is a mutual opportunity, offered to you at no cost. I'm not accustomed to begging, Mr. Maxwell, but I will ask you once more. Please, come away with me for an adventure. I would only ask in return that you stay with me for a least one month. I guarantee you a trip home on any airline after that period of time has passed."

A long sigh from the braided man seemed to indicate he was capitulating. "Ever heard the saying about something being too good to be true?"

"Of course," Dorothy answered pleasantly, sensing victory. "But have you ever heard, 'Never look a gift horse in the mouth'?" Reaching out, she put her hand over his as it rested on the sofa. "Come on, Duo, please say yes. What have you got to lose?"

"Well, let's see. I've already lost my job, have a diminishing bank account, a stack of bills due at the first of the month, and overly concerned friends who will probably hound me to death about my health, scold me when I don't do what they say, and find ways to force me to follow the doctor's advice. Not a lot of incentive for staying here, is there?"

Hope . "So, is that a yes?"

There was a long thoughtful pause before the braided man snorted. "What the hell, why not?"

"Excellent!" Dorothy beamed. She immediately rose to her feet. "If you'll gather together all of your bills and rent information, I'll drop everything off at my accountant's office and leave you to pack and find your passports. I'll pick you up at the front of your building at five o'clock this evening."

Raising an eyebrow, he said, "I never took you for the impulsive type, Dottie."

"There's a lot about me you couldn't possibly know," she replied with a mischievous wink. "Now get moving. Time's a wasting."

TBC

Author's note: Thanks to all who reviewed and made it a favorite. I don't have time to answer each and everyone of you, but I'm grateful for the comments and encouragement. I hope you enjoyed this part.

I dedicate this story to my dear friends, who have stuck with me even though I haven't been active in posting stories. Snowdragon, Waterlily, K. S. (Leslie, I can never spell you moniker correctly), and Karina. Wonderful women and friends. Also, to Sunhawk and Kracken, the two authors who have inspired me over many years with their fanfiction writing.


	3. Chapter 3

Unexpected

By: Dyna Dee

Disclaimer: only the story is mine.

Part 3

Duo Maxwell was locking the front door to his apartment at precisely five o'clock that evening. He paused for a moment, staring down at the keys in his hand and wondering if he was certifiably insane for running off with Dorothy Catalonia like this. Perhaps his chronic, exhausted state had made him susceptible to suggestion. That might explain his accepting her offer, especially when considering he and Catalonia were barely acquaintances. Somehow he'd allowed himself to be persuaded to run off with her for a month's vacation, or maybe even longer.

"Second thoughts?" Dorothy's voice came from behind, startling him. Damn, not sensing her approach was further evidence for just how exhausted he was.

Pocketing his keys before picking up his small suitcase and slinging the strap of his duffel bag over his shoulder, he then turned to face her. "Maybe. Is this crazy or what? I mean, why should I trust you?"

A blond forked eyebrow rose in question. "Why shouldn't you?"

"Well, let me think," he began. "We've already chatted about actions during the war, which indicates you as someone to be wary of. And considering I'm about to fall over from exhaustion, I'm pretty much putting myself into the hands of someone I hardly know or trust."

"I have profusely apologized for my adolescent behavior," she said demurely but in a straightforward manner he could respect. Tilting her head just slightly to the side she asked, "Do you always hold so steadfastly to the past and your grudges, Mr. Maxwell?"

"Of course I do. Why do you think I piloted Deathscythe if not for a grudge against the Alliance? And honestly, Dot, do I really have to repeat myself over and over about you not calling me Mr. Maxwell?"

"Point taken, and I am sorry. Politeness is a habit, you understand. I'll do my utmost best to refer to you by your first name." She'd said that wearing something akin to a patronizing smile. Glancing down at his duffel she continued. "Yet despite your reservations you appear packed and ready to go. You must trust me, if just a little."

"Trust is earned, Dot, not a privilege."

"Of course." She hesitated a moment before stepping closer, fiddling with one ear and then the other. What she was doing? He wondered. Standing directly in front of him now, she held out her hand to him, fist down. "A token of my trust in you."

He opened his hand, palm up beneath hers, and into it she dropped two rather large and impressive diamond earrings. He glanced up at her, curious.

"Those were my grandmother's earrings," she explained. "My grandfather gave them to her on the occasion of their engagement. They are worth over three hundred thousand credits. I would like you to hold onto them until the time comes when you feel you can trust me."

He looked from Dorothy determined face to the two sparkling gems resting on the palm of his hand. Though eye catching, he wondered how was it possible for two stones to cost so much? The softness of her voice implied their sentimental value meant more to her than their monetary worth.

"You're sure?" he asked, a bit nervous at being responsible for the two small stones that were worth so much.

Her expression changed and suggested he'd insulted her, which puzzled him for a moment.

"Of course I know their worth," she replied with her nose turned upward in an affronted manner. "They have been appraised and certified."

Now he was definitely confused. That's not at all what he meant.

Dorothy then covered her mouth with her hand and began giggling behind it, obviously amused by his confusion. "Just kidding," she managed, still smiling. "I know what you meant, and yes, I trust you to take good care of them for me."

Trying to look like the trust she was placing on him was no big deal, he shrugged, unzipped his jacket and set the gems in the pocket set in the lining. "I just don't know that I trust my pockets not to have a hole in them."

She chewed on her lower lip a moment before saying, "I'll give you a box to keep them in once we board the ship. Just don't lose them before then, all right?"

"I'll do my best," he replied, then offered her his arm, something he'd seen Heero do with Relena when he wanted her to move along. "I suppose we'd better ship out before someone decides to check in on me, seeing I haven't answered my phone all afternoon."

"Mr. Yuy?" she guessed

A derisive snort escaped him. "Hardly. Heero will come around on Friday and not before. I was talking about Quatre. Heero doesn't know how to deal with me when I'm angry or emotionally upset, so he calls Quat, who, by the way, has already left a couple of messages this afternoon." He sighed wearily before adding, "I'm just not up to explaining myself again and having him guilt me into going to L-4 for a restful vacation. There's only a handful of people who can say no to Quatre Winner, and I'm not one of them. He wears me down every time. He means well, but... you know."

The two turned and began walking towards the stairwell, their footsteps the only sound in the hallway. Then Dorothy observed, "You sound as if you feel guilty for avoiding him."

His shoulders slumped and as a result the strap of his duffel slid down his arm. Honestly, he was too damn tired to bother lifting it back into place, so he left it there and concentrated on answering her question and not tripping over his own feet. "Yeah. Quat will be worried. The guy's like a brother to me. I hate leaving him to worry and wonder what's going on."

"You're fortunate to have someone who cares so much about you," Dorothy remarked as they approached the stairwell. "I don't believe anyone will give a second thought at my disappearance."

They began their decent to the lower floor, one slow step at a time. Dorothy didn't comment on his slowness, which made his embarrassment a bit more bearable. Her last statement, though, bothered him. "I find that hard to believe," he responded. "Everyone has someone who'll notice when they're not around. Maybe a butler, doorman or needy relative?"

Dorothy turned her head and locked eyes with him, and in a matter-of-fact tone replied, "No. No one will miss me, I assure you. I gave notices to my staff and services that I won't need them for the time being. Most are on retainer, so they won't miss a paycheck... or me."

"What about Relena? Wouldn't she miss you?"

"Remember, she's the one who fired me, told me to leave. I dare say she will be relieved when days go by and she doesn't hear from me."

For the first time since he'd become aware of Dorothy Catalonia's existence, the former street brat from L2 felt sorry for the rich and privileged society girl. "You've no family either?" he asked.

"No. As you know, Treize was my only cousin, and my grandfather was also killed in the war. I've no one left."

He thought about that as they continued down the stairs. "I've got no family, either," he said. "Funny, coming from such diverse backgrounds, that's probably the only thing we really have in common."

After a couple more stairs, he nudged her with his elbow. "You know there's an unspoken rule to this orphan business, don't you? It's one that kept me alive as a kid on the streets and as a gundam pilot. 'I've got your back and you've got mine.' You good with that, Dot?"

There was just a hint of moisture in her eyes when as turned to give him a soft smile. "That sounds more than acceptable. Thank you, Duo." Then with the first trace of shyness he'd seen from her, she added, "You know, no one has ever called my anything other than Dorothy. I like it when you call me Dot or Dottie. I have noted you often shorten the names of your friends. If I may, I'll take your doing so with my name as a sign that we're on the path to friendship."

He was about to tell her his giving nicknames to others was simply a habit of his, but then decided to keep it to himself. Why take that little glitter of hope out of her eyes by correcting her assumption? Besides, she could be right. He could feel his attitude towards her softening.

His legs almost gave out on him when they finally reached the last step and ground floor. Both felt like rubber and unstable. He followed Dorothy as she stepped out of the brick building and immediately noticed the lengthening shadows as the sun raced towards the western horizon.

Parked five feet from the door and at the sidewalk's edge was a sleek, black Rolls Royce. The back door was held open by a distinguished looking man in a black suit and matching chauffeur cap. Obviously their ride. Typically, he would have made some comment about the car, but at that moment the need to sit down and rest his aching head and body was a top priority.

He considered it good luck when Dorothy's introduction to the older man was brief, simply calling the chauffeur Charles. Once that formality was over, Charles, in a very stiff-upper-lip manner, took charge of his duffle bag and suitcase. In an efficient yet seemingly unhurried manner, the man delivered Dorothy and himself into the back seat of the car. They sat in silence after the door was shut and while Charles preceded to set his luggage into the trunk before returning to the driver's seat.

The car started easily and purred softly as it eased into the evening traffic. With soothingly soft classical music playing in the background, and the seat as comfortable as any bed he'd slept on in Quatre's home, he found it impossible not to doze off. He slept through the fifteen-minute drive to the dock where the ship they were to board was anchored and waiting.

The movement, though gentle, of the car stopping was enough to cause hime to jerk to wakefulness. He was, momentarily, confused about where he was and what the hell was going on. Remembering a second later, he roused himself enough to get step out of the vehicle and stand on the dock next to Dorothy.

Pausing to think around the fatigue and ache in his head, he managed to look up at the long, pale blue ship that gleamed as if it was straight out of the factory. It was larger than he expected, but smaller than any of Howard's ships he'd been on during the war. Given a choice, he'd take the speed of mobile suits and flying in space over slow moving ships floating on Earth's oceans. But flying mobile suits was a thing of the past, as was Peacemillion. And here he was, with Dorothy Catalonia, a former enemy. He was about to embark on an unexpected journey with her. She was offering him an expense-free vacation and, dammit, he was going to make the most of and not complain about the slow mode of travel.

Glancing over at the young woman standing at his shoulder, he saw her gazing upon the ship with an expression of fondness. "This was yet another gift my grandfather gave to grandmama," she explained softly. "He named it after her." Pointing to the bow, the name _Isabella_ was written clearly in flowing script and white paint.

The two of them spent several moments lost in their own thoughts while gazing at the vessel that would carry them away from their present troubles. Finally, he turned his head towards her and said, "She must have been a pretty special lady for your grandfather to give her such expensive gifts."

"She was. We both loved her dearly. She and grandfather took me in at the tender age of three, after my parents died in a plane crash. She lost a long battle with breast cancer when I was twelve." A hint of sadness was in her voice when she added, "I miss her every day."

A feeling of sympathy for the young woman swept over him. In spite of all the wealth and the privileges she had been born into, she had suffered grief just like everyone one else. Grief was something he'd had more than his fair share of, and it seemed another thing they had in common.

With little energy left for dealing with past griefs, he gazed up at the ship again, wondering if it was large and sturdy enough to sail the great oceans, knowing how unpredictable they could be. "You've got a crew, right? An experienced one?"

"Of course." She visibly brightened at the change in subject. "Though with a little help I could probably sail her myself."

"Let's hope it won't come to that," he replied dryly, and to himself he thought, God, please don't let it come to that.

Dorothy laughed out loud. It was a nice sound, he decided. Feminine and light. Maybe he could make her do it again... after he got some sleep.

The events of the day and his run-down condition, not to mention a few too many beers, left him a bit unsteady, mind and body. He hadn't realized he was swaying until a firm hand on his elbow steadied him. Dorothy looked concerned, but didn't comment on his condition. She simply said, "Let's get on board and then you can rest."

"Thanks," he muttered, grateful and embarrassed. "Hope the beds aren't too soft."

"We'll find one that suits you to perfection," she said with confidence while guiding him towards a lowered plank.

A man in white shorts and shirt stood on deck and watched them climb up the plank. The whiteness of his clothing set off his dark tan, no doubt gained from hours of being on deck. A quick, cursory scan led him to believe the man was in his late twenties, handsome, and not at all uncomfortable with his employer. That probably meant he'd been employed by Dorothy or her family for some time.

"Permission to come onboard, Mr. McConnell," Dorothy said to the man on deck in a cheerful voice.

"Permission granted, Miss Catalonia."

Okay, so the man had a voice as smooth as honey, and he wore a welcoming grin that was probably meant to charm. But was he trying to charm Dorothy or himself? He made a mental note to keep an eye on Mr. McConnell.

Dorothy kept hold of his arm as they stepped onto the main deck, more for his benefit than for her own, he suspected. He was properly introduced to the first mate while the chauffeur deposited his luggage on the deck behind them.

Dorothy asked, "Have all the provisions and my luggage arrived?"

"Arrived and stowed," Mr. McConnell replied with an amazing, brilliantly white grin.

"Wonderful!" she beamed, excitement shining in her eyes. "Please show Mr. Maxwell to the blue cabin, and make sure the bed isn't too soft. I'll inform the captain that we're ready to set sail."

The first mate gave a slight bow of his head. "Yes, Miss,"

Then picking up the duffel bag and suitcase, he addressed Duo, "If you'll come with me, Mr. Maxwell."

Before following, however, Dorothy tugged on Duo's sleeve. "If there is anything you need, a new mattress or something you may have forgotten to pack, please let me or a member of the crew know. Otherwise, I'll bid you good night, Duo. Sleep well and as long as you like. I'll have some food brought to your cabin, but if you don't answer the door, we'll assume you're already asleep."

"Thanks, Dot." Now that the subject of food had been brought up, he felt hollow with hunger. He covered his mouth while yawning widely, not able to decide if he was too tired to eat or too hungry to sleep.

Dorothy smiled softly at him before turning and moving toward the front of the ship, leaving him in care of the first mate.

Hitching the strap of his bag onto his shoulder once again, he dutifully followed the slightly older man. Moments later he found himself in the best looking cabin of any ship he'd ever been on, including Peacemillion. It looked more like the fancy hotel rooms Quatre arranged for him to stay in whenever they went on vacation together. But the bed looked wonderful and inviting. It was sure it wasn't gong to be too hard nor too soft.

The moment the door of his cabin closed behind him and he was left alone, he slipped out of his clothing and into sleep clothes. He searched though his bag for his prescription pills and dry swallowed a sleeping pill as well as his vitamins. He sat on the edge of his bed and waited for his dinner to arrive. He was rewarded a little of five minutes later when a soft knock sounded on his door. After calling out permission, Mr. McConnell entered with a tray holding a large cup of vegetable soup, a turkey sandwich as well as a small velvet box. The man placed the tray on the bedside table, bid him goodnight and promptly left the cabin.

The box reminded his weary mind of the diamond earrings he'd earlier placed in the pocket of his jacket. Forcing himself to stand up again, he went to his jacket, which was thrown over a chair that was secured to the floor. Carefully removing the gems, he placed them in the box and for a moment admired how they glistened brightly against the black velvet. He then glance around the room with heavy eyelids, wondering where to safely stash them. The feeling of fatigue was nearly overwhelming now, so he decided to deal with finding a hiding spot for the gems in the morning.

With the last dregs of strength, he turned his attention to the tray of food. Carefully lifting the large cup of soup to his lips, he quickly swallowed the broth until it was gone. He then scooped out and ate the remaining vegetables with his fingers. His hunger still not satisfied, he picked up the sandwich and took a large bite and closed his eyes as he chewed. It was absolutely delicious. He continued until very last morsel was eaten and his fingers were licked clean of all mayonnaise and mustard. Washing it down with the cold bottle of water, he only had to brush his teeth before climbing into the bed.

The mattress, he thought with a bone-weary sigh, was just as he'd predicted. It was as comfortable as it had looked, and just what he needed. That was his last thought of the day. For despite the unfamiliar sounds and surroundings, sleep came immediately. His slumber was dreamless and deep enough that he remained completely unaware of the ship powering up and leaving the Port of Sanq and sailing off into the sunset.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Unexpected

Dyna Dee

Disclaimer: Don't own, no money made.

Part 4

Waking slowly and somewhat reluctantly, Duo sensed he'd been asleep for a long time, much longer than usual. This he could tell by how sluggish his thoughts were processing and the fact that his arms and legs felt unusually heavy. The unnatural roll of the room eventually reminded him of where he was - on a ship, with Dorothy Catalonia. His stomach clenched in disapproval of the motion, or maybe it was caused from drinking so much beer on an empty stomach the day before. After a slow, experiential stretch and wide yawn, he managed to fully open his eyes. A beam of light shining like a ray of gold through the port window seemed unnaturally bright, leading him to believe it was probably early afternoon. That being the case, he'd slept twenty or more hours. With all that sleep, shouldn't he feel more rested?

A very full bladder commanded his attention and urged him into action. With a bit of effort he rolled to his side and eased up into a sitting position. A couple of deep breaths helped clear his mind and calm his unsettled stomach. After another large yawn and lazy scratch, he noticed the little black velvet box on the bedside table. Reaching out, he picked it up, stood on legs that were a bit unsteady, and carried it to his duffel bag and suitcase, which were sitting on the floor next to the door.

He stopped short, looking down at them. The tabs on the suitcase were up. He bent to open it and paused. That's odd, he didn't remember unpacking his clothes, but his suitcase was empty. Checking his duffel, he sighed with relief as it appeared untouched. Someone must have come into his room while he slept and unpacked for him. That idea didn't trouble him as much as the fact that he hadn't woken up when whoever it was entered his bedroom and put away his clothing. At least the mysterious person had the sense not to trifle with his duffel. His passports and items of a personal nature were inside, just as he had left them.

Deciding to ask Dorothy about it when they met up, he tucked the velvet box containing the diamonds it inside one of the duffel's zippered pockets. Satisfied it was as safe as it was going to be for the time being, he turned towards the adjoining bathroom to relieve his aching bladder and take a quick, tepid shower.

Ten minutes later he emerged from the room and actually felt a bit better, and he went in search of clean clothing. He found them hanging in the latched cabinet. Like all the other ships he'd been on, in space and on the ocean, all personal items were contained and secured. He hoped they wouldn't hit any rough seas. He'd never experienced motion sickness in space, but he'd had the misfortune of falling seasick on a smaller ship during the war... and he hoped never to feel that way again.

He combed out and braided his damp hair, slipped into a pair of faded blue jeans and pulled a white T-shirt over his head before heading up to the top deck. Food was his first priority.

Assaulted by the bright, warm sunshine, a pale, sparkling blue ocean and balmy breeze, he closed his eyes. Tilting his head upwards, he soaked in the warmth of the sun and simply enjoyed the feeling of the wind against his face. His shirt fluttered against his skin and a very rare sensation of pleasure began to seep through his pores, easing, if only momentarily, all his worries and cares. The feeling was nothing short of intoxicating.

He allowed himself the luxury of taking several moments to simply breath in and enjoy the sea air and appreciate being alive. Feeling more refreshed, he opened his eyes and made his way towards the aft deck in search of his traveling companion. He found Dorothy stretched out on a lounge chair wearing a small white bikini.

It surprised him that the girl had some impressive womanly curves since the war, yet not so much that she couldn't pull off the little tiny garment. Her long white hair was pulled up and secured into a large knot on top of her head. Her pale body glistened in the sun, her skin covered with some kind of lotion.

"G'mornin'" he mumbled as cheerfully as he could manage before his first cup of coffee.

Turning her head, Dorothy gazed at him from over the top of her large designer sunglasses. "Actually, it's afternoon. How are you feeling?"

"Better," he replied, his hand covering a yawn.

Her blue eyes scrutinized him for a moment, no doubt taking in the unshaved face and the shadows lingering beneath his eyes. "You still look a bit tired, but I guarantee after week of sailing, breathing in the fresh ocean air and relaxing, you'll feel more like yourself. I asked Ander to set some food aside for you earlier, thinking you'd be starving after sleeping so long. You'll find it inside the refrigerator in the galley. Why don't you bring your plate out here and you can keep me company while you eat?"

"Um k," he answered while lazily scratching the top of his head. Turning around, he retreated back down the steps and went in search of the galley, desperately hoping there was some coffee to be had.

Without much effort he found the small room, which was immaculately clean. Just as Dorothy indicated, there was a plate of eggs and bacon wrapped in cellophane inside the refrigerator. He popped it into the microwave then rummaged around, familiarizing himself with the contents of the cupboards until he found a toaster secured in a lower cabinet. He put two pieces of bread into it and pushed down the lever.

Unfortunately, there was no coffee made. After the eggs were heated, he set a mug of water in the microwave to heat, then added a packet of instant he'd found in a drawer, figuring it was better than nothing. After slathering the toast with a generous amount of butter and jelly, he set it on the plate of food and tidied up after himself. Satisfied the galley was clean again, he carried his breakfast in one hand, the mug of instant coffee in the other, and made his way back to his hostess.

Dorothy was where he'd left her, on the lounge chair. He paused to wonder what in the world the two of them were going to talk about, not only that afternoon, but during the entire trip - however long it lasted. What the hell had he'd been thinking, accepting her offer of vacationing together? Could any two people be more unalike than they were?

In his absence, a second lounge chair had miraculously appeared next to Dorothy's. He carefully eased himself down on it, hoping to avoid spilling his food or drink on the deck as the ship rolled gently along with a wave. Dorothy turned her head and lifted her sunglasses to look over the contents of his plate, then smiled and settled them back in place on her pert little nose and said, "Bon appetite."

He ate without talking. Never much of a morning person, he was glad Dorothy didn't seem to expect much out of him, conversation wise. He finished his meal and swallowed down the last bit of nearly cold instant coffee. No sooner had he put the cup down, than a young man wearing a blue polo shirt, white knee-length shorts and a polite smile appeared.

"Can I get you anything else, sir?" He had a slightly accented voice which Duo guessed was Scandinavian. Judging from the fair skin and blond hair, it was probably a good guess.

Dorothy spoke before he could form a reply. "Duo, this is Ander, second mate. If you require anything, he's the person to ask." Turning her attention to the handsome seaman, she smiled sweetly and said, "I'd like an iced tea, Ander. Anything for you, Duo?"

"I'm fine," he replied, brushing off the few crumbs his toast had left behind on his lap.

Ander promptly turned on his heel and disappeared, only to report back moments later with a tall glass filled with ice and golden tea.

"How many guys are on your payroll?" Duo asked as he reclined his seat, grasping for a couple of loose, wind-blown strands of his long hair and tucking them behind his ear.

"I have many men and women in my employ," she answered as if it was no big deal. "But on this ship there are three crewmen. Captain Ian McKenzie," her voice suddenly took on a sultry tone and a grin that might be described as naughty spread across her face. "He's Irish and a handsome devil, very talented and capable at piloting my ship. Mr. McConnell, whom you met last night, is the first mate and acting chef, and of course Ander, second mate and personal attendant."

"Personal attendant?" Duo asked, raising an eyebrow at the questionable job title. He also recalled that the two men he'd met were extremely attractive and physically fit.

"He attends to my needs, serves my meals, takes care of the laundry and general housekeeping. He also happens to give excellent massages. When I sail alone, he also acts as an escort when we're in port. I won't need his services landside if you'll take that position and accompany me ashore whenever we dock."

"Ah... yeah, sure." Duo figured he owed her at least that much for taking him on this extended vacation. "Is Ander the one who put away my clothes?"

There must have been something in his voice that alerted her to the fact that he was less than pleased by that simple act, for she turned her head, lifted her sunglasses and looked at him before replying. "Is that a problem? I did ask him to unpack only your suitcase, believing your more personal items would be in your carry-on bag. Was I wrong to do so?"

"I like to do things myself," he answered, a bit more curtly than he'd intended. "Sorry, but I have a problem with people going through my things. Probably a carry-over from the war. But what bothers me more is that I didn't wake up when he came into the room. I usually wake at the slightest sound."

"It's certainly understandable. You were exhausted, and if I'm not mistaken, medicated."

He blushed. "Both exhaustion and sleeping pill made me vulnerable. Your man or anyone else could have slit my throat while I lay in bed, and I wasn't in a position to stop him."

"Ah," Understanding lit on Dorothy's face. "I understand, and I promise you will never be placed in such a vulnerable position again, not while you're on my ship or when accompaning me." She placed her glasses back over her eyes and laid her head down on the chair again.

A long stretch of silence followed, and the warm wind and sound of water splashing against the ship eased some of the tension that had formed between them. Then Dorothy's head turned towards him once more. "Since we're going to be traveling companions, I think it would help if we knew a bit more about each other. It might help keep us from stepping on each other's toes. Would you mind telling me a little about yourself, Duo?"

Rolling his eyes, he replied, "Working with Relena probably gave you plenty opportunity to read through any intelligence reports she had on the five of us. In your position, I really doubt you'd let information like that pass by you, now when you could learn more about the Gundams and their pilots."

"Touché again, Mr. Maxwell," she smiled demurely. "Reports, however, revealed nothing about the child who grew up on L2. I confess, I've never visited your home colony, but you must know what is generally said about it. I'm simply curious about your life there and how you came to be in a position to pilot that fearsome and technological wonder you called Deathscythe."

Looking over the rim of her large white sunglasses, her eyes seemed to sparkle with something akin to excitement when she added, "By the way, your Gundam was my favorite. The cloaking device was sheer genius. It must have come in handy in your battles, giving you the advantage of surprise."

Was she trying to flatter him, or was she flirting? He last remark seemed odd, considering she'd been one of his enemies. Without a doubt, he'd struck down his share of enemy suits while cloaked. Poor bastards never knew what hit them.

"I honestly don't think you want to hear about my childhood," he replied. Closing his eyes against the brightness of the sun, he focused once again on the wonderful feeling of the warm sun on his skin and continued. "My story's not a happy one, and completely different from how you must have been brought up."

"Which is precisely why I would appreciate you telling me." When he didn't offer anything else, she made a suggestion, " Perhaps you would feel more at ease if I first tell you something about myself? Consider it a trade of personal information." She gave him a moment to consider her proposal.

With a shrug he answered, "Sure. Why not? But don't be offended if I don't want to share something, alright?"

Dorothy settled back again. "Very good. Let me see, where should I begin? My childhood, I suppose. In comparison to what I've heard about L2, I did have a childhood filled with many privileges, but it was not exactly a happy existence." For the next five minutes Dorothy spoke of her vague memories of her childhood, of a lovely yet aloof mother and a father who was rarely home.

"At least you had a roof over your head and plenty of food to eat," he interjected. He had a hard time buying the poor little rich girl story. He refrained from speaking his mind, remembering Quatre telling him something similar after learning the pilot from L4 was none other than THE much envied Winner heir.

"Yes, I was fortunate to have those things and so much more. Even so, I longed for something I did not have. I would have traded all the monetary advantages for their presence and love." She sighed. "

Dorothy paused for a long moment before continuing. With a dismissive wave of her hand she said, "It's all water under the bridge at this point. My parents died when I was still quite young and my grandparents took me in. Within the week they sent me to the very best boarding schools. I was instructed to learn everything a respectable girl of good breeding should. I spent a great amount of my adolescence in those schools, returning to my grandparents' home only for major holidays and two weeks during summer break. Otherwise, I was shipped off to visit family friends who had children close to my age."

He snorted. "Having been to some of those boarding schools, I can sympathize with you. Anyone forced to wear those ungodly uniforms day in and day out deserves our pity."

Dorothy laughed at that. "They were awful, weren't they? Especially the girls' uniforms at the academy in Sanq."

There was something about her story that piqued his curiosity. "You say you didn't live with your grandparents all that much, but you talk about them with fondness." He remembered her telling him about the gifts her grandmother received.

"I loved them," she replied. "But our lives were anything but a happy ending, and definitely not a storybook tale."

He listened carefully as Dorothy told him of her grandfather, a man of wealth and privilege, with unbending ideas on how a child should be raised. At first he seemed to barely tolerate his orphaned granddaughter's presence, though she indicated he was never cruel, just a bit cold. Her grandmother filled in the emotional gaps. She called her every weekend, sent gifts of food and clothing often. Dorothy remembered her as being warm and caring but often sad. She died when Dorothy was twelve, and her passing changed her grandfather. More than ever, he became unusually interested in global politics, political strategies and his own vision for the future for mankind. Craving his attention and approval, she became an extension of him, taking on his beliefs and passions.

"I was fourteen when I finely felt I was special to him, that I had a part to play is his visionary future. Yet my perception of being important to him was sorely shaken after I was deemed old enough to attend the main family gathering. It came as quite a shock to me when I discovered my cousin Treize was the planned catalyst for my grandfather's plans. He was the rising star my family hitched its wagon to, so to speak."

Duo snorted. "Treize Khushrenada, what a nutcase. He must have been a hard act to follow."

"Yes, he certainly was. Yet later I proved myself to the family by becoming a useful tool for Treize. I was sent to keep an eye on Miss Relena and to become a catalyst for her decision making when she became my cousin's pawn. I encouraged her, prodded and probably even taunted her down paths she most likely would not have trod had I not stood by her side. Regardless of our differences and her naivete, I became very fond of Relena. We were alike, you see, both of us orphans and driven to achieve something grand."

"Driven or obsessed?" he asked as he wiped some sweat from his upper lip. He was getting very warm under the afternoon sunshine. "If you ask me, Relena was a crazy, out of control teenager, following Heero all over the planet, sticking her nose into other people's business where she didn't belong. And Queen of the world? Like you said, she was nothing more than a puppet."

Dorothy grinned. "She was a very stubborn girl, but then weren't we all stubborn and driven? You must give Miss Relena some credit, for once she became Treize's unwitting tool, she took it upon herself to push for peace between Earth and the colonies and ultimately became the voice of pacifism. Her move surprised everyone, including Treize.

"I believed my duty then was to act in opposition to her plans for total pacifism. Relena talked a good talk, but was the world ready to lay down their arms, eliminate borders and trust politicians enough to give them total control? Naive, that's what Relena was back then. So I did everything in my power to fulfill my grandfather and Treize's plan, to show the people of Earth the evils of war. Their belief was that the people of Earth and the colonies would only give up on dissension and war if they had truly experienced the horror of it first hand. Only then would they never again chose war over peaceful solutions. Deluded or not, I chose to help Treize, believing that in doing so I was helping my grandfather.

Dorothy paused in her narrative for a moment, and Duo waited until she felt like going on. The ship rolled over the waves and the wind seemed to clarity the past as the two young people recalled a darker time. After several long moments, Dorothy sighed deeply and continued with her story.

"After grandfather's death, I left Earth to follow Milliardo to space. I hoped to gain his confidence and to be an influence in his decision making, just as I had Relena." She chortled softly. "Not that any of that matters now." She turned her face towards the sky and closed her eyes.

Duo wondered what was going on in her mind. Was she regretful of her past actions, feeling remorseful or simply sad about how everything turned out, good or bad? For himself, he remembered every ugly thing he'd ever seen or done. Time and distance had helped him compartmentalize the bad and treasure the good. He knew he'd done the best he could, made the choices he, at such a young as he'd been. Had made mistakes and suffered. Eventually is all came down to forgiving himself. After all, every good and bad decision, and things that had happened to him, had made him the man he was today. Which, when he dryly reflected, maybe wasn't a good thing just now. He was out of a job and exhausted.

Dorothy surprised him by continuing. "Looking back now, I believe Miss Relena represented the person I wished to be. I just knew she was going to make a difference, even at a young age. I was so very intrigued by how... how truly kind and normal she appeared to be."

She turned her head towards him again, and with a slight mischievous smile she added, "Yet her passion for peace was only slightly greater than her curiosity about a particular Gundam pilot who had captured not only her eye, but her heart as well."

Duo huffed and rolled his eyes. "And we both know how that turned out."

She either chose to ignore his comment, or was too deep in her thoughts to have heard him as she continued. "Like everyone else, Relena did not come out of the war unscathed. She lost her stepfather as well as her childish belief that the world was full of good, trustworthy people. She also learned her true identity as a Peacecraft and the tragic history of her family. What a shock it must have been to discover she had an older brother, and that he was aligned with OZ, which had taken her prisoner. Oddly, Milliardo was something she and I had in common during the war, though she avoided him and I latched onto him as my anchor after the loss of my grandfather."

Duo held back from blurting out something unflattering. It was obvious that Dorothy's questionable sanity had taken a nosedive the moment she joined Milliardo Peacecraft in space. The man's insanity was more than apparent by his diabolically whacked plan to send the planet into an ice age. But the pensive expression Dorothy wore led him to believe now wasn't the time for flip comments.

"I have many regrets from the war," she continued softly. "One of them being my fencing match with Mr. Winner. I didn't purposely set out to wound him. By that time I believed Milliardo intended to die if his plans went awry. I also believed my fate was to go down with the ship. When Mr. Barton arrived and rescued my injured opponent, I returned to a more rational frame of mind. Only then did I realize my reason for wounding Mr. Winner. It was to keep him with me. You see, I was afraid of dying in space, of being all alone. I needed someone, even if it was my enemy, to be there with me at the end. Mr. Barton brought an end to my selfish plan by showing up just at the right moment. And then Quatre forgave me and pleaded with his rescuer to save me in his place. How could I not feel guilty and rise to the occasion when such a kind gesture was made on my behalf? After they left, I gathered my shame and made my way to an escape capsule."

Keeping his expression neutral while thinking over this new version of past events, he asked, "And after the war you joined up with Relena?" He had seen Dorothy in Relena's company quite often since the end of the first war. He and the others knew she'd been working with her, acting as an aide.

The blond girl sighed and grudgingly admitted, "She took pity on me, even though I often tried her patience. I honestly did try to be her friend, but I suppose old habits die hard. I couldn't help trying to influence her as acting Vice Foreign Minister. I didn't realize she felt I was unduly pressuring her when I believed I was only being helpful. Ultimately, that was the underlying reason I was released from my first and only real job."

By her tone of voice, he could tell it cost the girl a lot to speak so candidly about herself. She seemed tense and on edge as she lay on the deck chair next to him. Was her lip trembling just slightly? Even though he hadn't any direct contact with Dorothy during the war, he'd heard others speak of the nefarious blonde girl, their comments generally unflattering.

Manipulative, scheming and war crazy were just a few of the descriptions he'd heard of the girl who had flown from Earth to the space battleship Libra and talked her way into being Zech Marquise's second in command. His own opinion of her had been based on gossip, having nothing else to go by.

A small suspicion began to rise within him, suggesting she might be trying to manipulate his opinion of her now by seeking his sympathy. Time would tell, he decided, what kind of person Dorothy Catalonia really was. Until then, he'd tread cautiously.

From her own admission, Dorothy was a spoilt girl, born into money and aristocratic circles, which opened countless doors of opportunity for her. Duo figured they were polar opposites, socially, at least. Could they actually find something to talk since they really did have very little in common? If she didn't throw him off her ship for having been a street rat, pick pocket and demolitions expert, maybe he'd have time to form a truer assessment of his hostess. He had to give her credit, though, she didn't seem intimidated or afraid of being in the company of L2's most notorious terrorist.

"I figure we've got at least one more thing in common, Dottie," he offered. "We both suck at keeping friends." He shot a grin her way.

The change of topic seemed to relax her a bit. "That we do," she said, then took a sip from the straw in her iced tea before adding, "Adding to the list of commonalities, you may include the obvious: our long, beautiful hair."

He chuckled at that, surprised to find she had a sense of humor. They both refrained from speaking for several minutes. Only the sound to be heard was the water splashing against the ship and wind whipping the flag set at the stern and the dull thrum of the ship's motor. Feeling unusually relaxed, he lay with his eyes closed and simply enjoyed the warmth of the sun.

"Your turn," Dorothy gently invited after a while.

He breathed in deeply and exhaled out slowly. "I know, I know. Gimme a minute here. I'm not in the habit of talking about my past, and I have to warn you it's not a happy story." After several moments had passed, he began again by saying, "Like I told you, I'm an orphan."

"That was one of the things we have in common so far," Dorothy cut in, tilting her tall glass towards him.

"My first memories are of being cold and hungry," Duo continued, and from there he very briefly told her about being adopted into a gang of children, pickpockets by necessity who stole whatever they needed to survive.

He mentioned the plague that killed more of his patched-together family, and of being taken into a church orphanage, sent to school, and cared for by a patient priest and a motherly nun. That brief time of security and safety was destroyed when the church was attacked by Alliance forces. He didn't go into the circumstances, or his part in it, only telling her that he had been the only survivor, and only because he hadn't been inside the orphanage at the time of the attack.

He was on his own after that, believing himself to be bad luck to anyone he cared about. He was wild, wily, fast and elusive, and determined to get off that godforsaken colony. Staring off into the distance, he told her of stealing onto a ship and stowing away, thinking to get off at the next colony. He'd actually gotten away with it for a week before being caught red handed in the galley in the middle of the night and brought before the ship's captain, Howard.

"And that began the next chapter in my life," he ended, wishing he had something to drink, and not iced tea. He hated talking about the past, but now that it was over, he hoped to not have to do it again.

"You're a fascinating man," Dorothy said, her eyes studying him intently. "Not many people survive experiences like yours. Perhaps you should write a book about your life."

"I'm kind of young to be writing an autobiography," he said with a dismissive snort.

Her left reddening shoulder shrugged. "People write volumes about a single life experience. You've got more than your fair share of tales to tell."

"The majority of my life hasn't been pleasant," he said, scratching absently at the top of his head. "And even if I thought anyone would benefit from me telling my story, I don't think I'm capable of writing things down properly. Sure, I can talk, but my writing skills are abysmal, or so I've been told. I didn't spend much time going to school when I was younger or during the war."

"As someone who has spent a great deal of time in the shadow of Relena Peacecraft instead of going to school, I'm hardly a spokesperson for higher education."

Combing his hands though the front of his hair, wincing as his fingers tangled in the windblown snarled strands, he paused to think a moment. "I wonder what the hell I'm going to do now that I'm out of a job."

Dorothy thought a moment before making a suggestion. "Why don't we take it a day at a time? Time is certainly something we have plenty of at the moment."

"Yet another thing we have in common," he said with a slight grin. "Time, unemployment, great hair, good looks and being orphans. I'm sure down the road we'll find a few others."

The blonde grinned back, giving her companion a teasing wink.

Taking a sip of his drink he surmised, "I guess if we can make it through the week without tossing each other overboard, we might just get along."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Unexpected

By: Dyna Dee

Disclaimer: Standard I don't own or make money from messing with the characters.

Part 5—A Partnership, of Sorts

By the end of the first week the two vacationers had visited two ports, shopped the local markets, taken in a movie and generally had an enjoyable, relaxing time together. Dorothy was pleased with how things were progressing.

Sunday evening, she found Duo standing at the bow of the ship, gazing up at the crescent moon as it rose over the dark water. The Isabella was anchored for the night, and the evening breeze was gentle and warm, the water calm. Her companion seemed to be in a contemplating mood, and she wondered for a moment whether she should intrude on his solitude. But there was something in his stance, a lone figure framed against the moonlight, that looked so lost, maybe even sad to her. She knew such feeling very well and wouldn't wish them on anyone. And so she moved towards him.

"My, such a serious expression. What could you possibly be thinking about on such a lovely evening?"

He turned his head to acknowledge her, then shrugged one shoulder. "Nothing much. Just wondering what's going on elsewhere."

She came to stand at the rail next to him and looked out at the scene before them. The moonlight reflecting on the gently moving water, making it sparkle. It was beautiful. She breathed in the fresh ocean air, finding it still warm yet refreshing after the day's heat.

Hearing an audible sigh from her companion she asked, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but it reminds me of the war," he replied. "I remember looking up at the full moon from the deck of Howard's ocean barge. I've always like looking at the moon from the first day I landed on Earth, during Operation Meteor. But that night on Howard's ship, I wondered about Heero. See, I helped him escape from the Alliance hospital, got him to Howard's ship, and what did he do? He stole parts from my gundam to fix his own and then took off. I tried to figure out what kind of guy he was to do such a thing. Damn, he was impressive. I don't think I've never met anyone who was as dedicated and single minded. He still is,"

He looked up at the sky again, then shook his head. The awe in his voice a moment ago was replaced with something more akin to disappointment as he continued. "Here I am, a couple of years down the road, still wondering about the guy. What will Heero think, showing up at my apartment after work tonight? Will he be upset after realizing I left without a word to anyone? Will he be worried? Or will he simply feel disappointed because he'd wasted a trip across town for nothing?"

She remained silent as she stood by his side, waiting for him to continue to give her a bit more insight. She really didn't think he wanted her to answer his questions, so she wouldn't. Not until she felt she might be of assistance.

"Oh hell," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "For so damn long I've tried to impress Heero, to win him over. That's how I ruined my health, you know; trying to keep up with Mr. Perfect Yuy. Guess it's time I face the facts, that I obviously don't measure up to him, and move on."

She wanted to console him, but honestly didn't know what to say, so she waited, allowing him to continue the conversation or not. Sometimes just talking about something helps one come to a conclusion.

From the corner of her eye she saw him duck his head, and then quietly wonder out loud, "What the hell is wrong with the guy? And what the hell is wrong with me, worrying about someone who obviously doesn't have the capacity or inclination to reciprocate my feelings? Honestly, Heero has to be the most confusing, closed off, perfectly contained person I've ever met. Anyone with eyes to see can tell how I feel about him, and those who have figured it out have tried to warn me off, for my own good. Even Howard took me aside and questioned my sanity."

"Why would your friends advise you to stay away from Heero? He's been your closest friend since the war, right?"

He turned to look at the moon before replying. "Well, let just say he's a complicated guy. Our friendship hasn't always been an easy one."

"It's obvious you two are close, and, I would guess, competitive?"

"Ridiculously competitive," he answered with a snort and roll of his eyes.

Leaning against the railing, Dorothy looked up at the sky above and cautiously said, "Perhaps that is part of the problem. I don't think competing against someone you care about is the basis for a relationship." Without pausing she added, "And speaking of your relationship with Mr. Yuy, Relena and I ve often speculated about just how close you two really are."

His slowly turned his head and looked at her, his expressing communicating he was very uncomfortable at the turn of their conversation. "I don't even want to know what you two were thinking." Even in the dim moonlight, she could see his face blushing with embarrassment.

She turned slightly to look him in the eye. "How long have you been in love with him?"

He didn't exactly look shocked by her forthright question, but he was very obviously embarrassed. After a week of talking and getting to know each other, they had both opened up more and more to each other, in conversations just like this. For every bit of personal information he gave her, she in turn revealed something about herself. He hadn't said much about Heero, but she was a bit curious about his relationships with the other former Gundam pilots, and especially Heero. She knew she'd been right, that he had feelings stronger than friendship for his best friend.

Looking up at the pale moon again, her companion took a moment to consider his answer, appearing almost afraid to admit it out loud. Then quietly he exhaled and replied, "Since the first war, shortly after we met."

"He knows, doesn't he? How you feel about him?" She stepped closer, now standing shoulder to shoulder with him, her manicured fingers clutching the polished railing.

"Heero's a smart guy, and I think it's pretty obvious how I feel."

"But you haven't said so in words."

He actually blushed and lowered his eyes from the sky to the ocean, following the reflective beam of the moon's light as it danced across the gently rolling surface. "We're not the kind of guys who talk much about our feelings."

With a sidelong look and a wry smile she said, "Having been Miss Relena's confidant from time to time, and considering her observations, she believes Heero has problems communicating his feelings. He seems a man of action rather than words."

"Depends on the circumstance," he mumbled.

"He spends every Friday night with you, correct?"

"Every one he has off,"

"And you've kissed, of course." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

He ducked his head and replied, "I'm not comfortable talking about this with you."

"Has he ever hit you?"

His head jerked up and he looked at her as if she'd insulted him. "What? No, of course not! Well, not since the Mariamaia incident, and not enough to hurt, anyway. We train a lot in the gym at work."

Dorothy nodded thoughtfully. "And you only spend Friday evenings together?"

"Mostly." He turned to face her. "Where the hell are you going with this line of questioning?"

"What does Heero do in his spare time, when he's not with you?"

He shrugged. "Just what I do, I guess. Shop for groceries, apartment cleaning, laundry and dishes. I hang out with friends, play some vid games and he does whatever he does on his computer."

She hesitated a moment before asking, "He's not seeing anyone else, is he? As in dating?"

"Not that I know of, and God help him if he is." No sooner had he said that, but his eyes went wide. She interpreted that as a sign he was giving up more information than he'd was comfortable with.

Now looking decidedly uncomfortable, he blurted out, "Listen, Dot, either change the subject or I swear I'll bail. Jump right over this railing, right now."

She laughed, hoping he was joking. "I'm sorry," she said, still amused. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"Sticking your nose into my personal life is making me very uncomfortable." In an obvious ploy to steer the conversation in another direction, he asked, "What about you Dottie? Are you interested in anyone? Do you have a billionaire boyfriend or two living at one of these ports we'll be visiting?

She shook her head. "Oh, heavens no. I find people with a lot of money insufferable. Especially young men who are not mature enough to use their resources wisely nor comport themselves with dignity." Duo raised an eyebrow at that, and surprisingly she understood and added, "Not that I suffer from the same affliction. I happen to be very mature, intelligent, and consider my wealth as a ticket to freedom. I do what I like, go whatever I want, and I can share my wealth with anyone I care to. I also learn from my mistakes. And today, my inheritance makes me happy, because it's allowed me to be here with you, on this ship, enjoying this beautiful evening."

He looked at her a bit nervously and she could only wonder what she'd said to make him feel that way.

"Ah, listen, Dot. Maybe we should get something straight."

She blinked and tilted her head questioningly. "Is something the matter?"

"Well," he scratched the back of his head with one hand, the other holding the railing as if he might just jump ship. He appeared to be struggling to say what was on his mind. "I'm having a pretty decent time with you. I'm actually surprised how well we're getting on. But I just want to make it clear that... if you're developing feelings for me... well..."

"Of course my feelings for you have changed," she said with a warm grin. "I like you, Duo, and I hope the feeling is mutual."

"Ah, sure... I like you. But, you know, I'm.. ah... ' he paused, as if hoping to gather the courage to say what he must. Then he suddenly did. "What I'm saying is that all we can ever be is friends."

Again she blinked, registering what he was trying to say. "Do you think I... that I'm falling in love with you?" And in the next heartbeat she completely lost all of her ladylike manners when she began laughing uncontrollably, and continued on for a least a minute before reaching out a hand to clutch his forearm for support as she struggled to compose herself.

"It's not that funny," he grumbled.

"Oh, yes it is," she gasped and began to laugh anew. After a few more attempts, she finally composed herself and took a deep breath. Wiping the tears from her eyes she said, "I can't remember the last time I laughed this much. Thank you, Duo. That felt wonderful. I knew you could make this trip so much better than if I had traveled alone."

For the next hour they conversed more easily. She avoided speaking about Heero, deciding it was better to leave off that subject for the time being. So they skirted about relationship topics, and asked and answered questions about generic things, such at their likes and dislikes. Duo, she thought, seemed to genuinely be enjoying himself.

"Funny thing is," he said after a long pause in the conversation. "In spite all the worldly things at your disposal and the wealth you've inherited, I feel like I'm a bit better off. Granted, I'm not rich, don't have fancy cars, homes or ships like this. But I've got what I need, and I like what I have. Plus, I have good friends that I trust, and they care about me and would do anything for me." But then his smile faded. "Well, at least I had good friends until I disappeared without a word to anyone. Now I feel guilty. I should probably call Quatre or Heero, let someone know I'm alright so they won't worry."

"Maybe you should," she replied, leaving that decision entirely up to him. She was determined not to interfere until she was certain of what outcome she wanted to achieve. At that moment, her desire was to see this wonderful young man happy and well. With all he'd been through, he surely deserved to have both health and happiness.

Ander brought them each a goblet of sorbet and a plate of cookies, which they shared and thoroughly enjoyed while chatting further. As the hour grew late, the two found themselves where they'd begun, standing at the bow of the ship. Before retiring to her cabin for the evening, Dorothy decided to return to their previous topic. "I've been thinking about your comments about Mr. Yuy. It's my own opinion that he surely possess stronger feelings for you than you give him credit for."

"How do you figure?"

"If he didn't enjoy your company, why would he spend his free time with you?"

"Probably because I make myself available, and he trusts me to have his back." In a more somber tone he continued. "Everyone kind of worships Heero, if you know what I mean. We pilots idolized him during the war, Relena chased him all over the planet, and now he's Preventers' role model agent. But I know that there's more to the guy than what other people see. Shortly after I met him, I learned he was more than the trained perfect soldier. He could and did make mistakes. He's told me something about his training, and he's having a hard time overcoming what his mentor did to him."

He gave her a warning glare as he sternly added, "And don't ask me what his training entailed, 'cause it's confidential and nobody's business." He waited until she gave a nod of consent, then relaxed a bit as continued. "Heero knows I accept him no matter what he's done or how screwed up he is. Guess that makes me a comfortable person to work out his attempts at being normal. But that doesn't necessarily mean he cares for me all that much."

Dorothy shook her head, and with a look of disbelief on her face she proclaimed, "You men can be so obtuse."

"Don't think I don't know what that means, Dottie. And believe me, it's not limited to gender," he shot back defensively.

"True," she said with a sigh. "But in this case I am one-hundred percent correct."

He shrugged one shoulder, capitulating she might be a little right. "It's a little too late to do anything even if you are right about Heero. No doubt he'll show up at my apartment tonight, break in when I don't answer the door, and come to the conclusion that I've gone. Now that I'm a bit more rested and can think clearer, I wonder if I did the right thing? I just thought severing ties with him would give me a chance to find a new job away from Sanq and, hopefully, a new start."

Dorothy felt excited as she gently made a proposal. "Perhaps I could employ you."

"Doing what?" He looked her warily.

"As my companion," she replied without hesitating.

He laughed out loud, then sobered enough to inform her in a more serious tone, "I'm not about to be someone's kept man."

"I'm sure I could come up with something useful for you to do."

"Thanks, but if I really need a job, my billionaire pal will have something already picked out for me the moment I get in touch with him."

She nodded, barely concealing her disappointment. "Yes, I can understand you'd rather work for the highly esteemed Mr. Winner than for me."

"Come on, don't take it personal, Dottie," he chided with a roll of his eyes. "Quatre won't offer me a pity job. He's always suggesting I take a security or IT job with the Winner Corporation. I've just always turned him down because I didn't want to give up my job with Heero. Guess there's nothing holding me back now."

"I didn't know you wanted to leave Earth and return to the colonies."

"I don't. Not really," he confessed with his eyes turned to the moonshine reflected on the ocean. He breathed in the fresh, salt scent of the ocean and the shadow clouds as the drifted lazily in the evening sky. "I love Earth. It's an everyday adventure for me. The sky and weather constantly changes. Frankly, L2 is a floating metal coffin, lacking any beauty or change. The other colonies I've visited are a bit better, but no, I prefer Earth." Then with a sigh he added, "But a job's a job, right?"

"I think you're asking the wrong person," she answered with a slight grin. "Remember, I've only had one job and got fired from it by the person I thought was my best friend."

That gave the braided man another thought. "You know, there's nothing holding you dirt side either. Maybe Quatre has a job for you?"

"Me?" Dorothy began laughing again. "Now you're being ridiculous."

"Why not?" he asked. "You're certainly smart enough, despite your lack of higher education. Not all intelligence is measure by a diploma. I'm certainly proof of that."

"I wounded Mr. Winner in a duel of swords, remember?" she reminded him. "And though he has politely offered me his forgiveness, do you honestly believe he would want me on the same colony, much less in the same building? I don't believe for a moment that he is that understanding."

"Stranger things have happened," he stated. "For instance, you and me together on this trip. Never in a million years would I have thought you and I would take a vacation together."

"Thanks ever so much," she said sarcastically but with a knowing grin.

"You know what I mean," he teased, bumping her shoulder with his own. "You and I weren't even on a first name basis until you came to my apartment."

"You're right," she said and then sighed. "And I have no reason to judge either Mr. Winner or anyone else for that matter. For all I know, your other friends may be as nice as you've made them out to be. Still, I can't believe any of them would trust me enough to employ me."

"Well, from Quat and Trowa's account of what happened on Libra, you were a bit nuts. I figure your having been in command of all those mobile dolls had to have fried some of your own circuits. Believe me, Quatre knows what that's like better than anyone, besides Heero and Zechs. You're not so bad now, in my opinion. I could always write you a letter of recommendation."

Dorothy was surprised by his offer, but then threw her head back and laughed, an honest to God laugh. "Oh, that's rich," she gasped. "A letter about my sterling character from the former Shinigami."

Duo snickered. He seemed to enjoy her laughter.

Dorothy realized how wonderful it felt to share conversation and laughter with him. She had indeed made a wise choice for a traveling companion.

Wiping the moisture from her eyes, she said, "That felt wonderful. It's hard to believe we were strangers a week ago. I certainly don't feel that way any longer. We've come to understand each other, if just a bit. After all the things we've talked about, don't you feel like we're on the road to being friends?"

"Stranger things have happened," he replied with a teasing grin.

Looping an arm through his, Dorothy leaned her head against his shoulder and looked out over the ocean, constantly in motion. "It certainly is Mr. Yuy's loss if he doesn't see what a catch you are."

It felt natural for him to tilt his own head slightly to rest his cheek against her head. "Yeah, his loss," he murmured.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Unexpected**

By: Dyna Dee

Standard disclaimer: I don't own GW nor profit from writing about the characters.

**Part 6**

The Isabella docked in a large port on the beautiful Greek island of Santorini the next afternoon. Just that morning Dorothy had mentioned she'd been there before, had spent several summer vacations with a family her grandmother had been acquainted with. She spoke fondly of the people who had graciously accepted her into their home. She told him their name, but it was long, unfamiliar and definitely Greek, so of course he immediately forgot it. With eyes shining brightly with anticipation she informed him they would be docking for several days in order for her to renew her friendship with them.

Having radioed ahead their ETA, it wasn't a complete surprise to find themselves greeted by a handsome young man at the end of the plank. He was only a bit taller than himself, but everything else was opposite his own appearance. The man was naturally tan with dark and thick, perfectly groomed hair and deep brown eyes. He wore a white button down shirt, the top two buttons undone and the sleeves artfully rolled up to his elbow. The shirt was tucked into the waistband of tan knee-length shorts. He had all the appearance of a man used to a good lifestyle. He watched as the man enthusiastically embraced Dorothy and they exchanged greetings in Greek. Not knowing the language, Duo had little choice but to stand back add wait patiently for the introductions to begin.

Dorothy had dressed for the occasion, wearing a dress she'd purchased at the first port they'd visited. It was a proper knee-length, halter dress of white with a stitched hemline border of small pink flowers. He thought she looked very feminine. Pretty even. He, on the other hand, had been told to wear the khaki trousers and white, short-sleeved cotton shirt Anders had pressed for him earlier that day. Dorothy had informed him they would be dining with their hosts that night and jean or shorts would be inappropriate. He recalled past instructions proper dining apparel from Quatre and Wufei on more than one occasion, so he didn't question her request.

Pulling out of the man's embrace, Dorothy turned to him with a near blinding smile of happiness. "Duo, I'd like you to meet a dear, dear friend of mine, Atreus Stephanopolis. As I told you, his grandmother and mine were college chums, and I spent several summers visiting their home. Atreus, this is Duo Maxwell, a man of many talents, titles, but none more important than that of being my traveling companion."

Duo guessed the man to be in his mid twenties and, like most of the wealthy people he'd met, the Greek seemed to be at ease with himself and the world around him.

Atreus stretched out his hand and without a hint of an accent he replied in English, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Maxwell. Welcome to Santorini and to my family's home."

Making sure his shoulder bag wouldn't slip from his shoulder, Duo put down the small suitcase Dorothy had packed and shook the man's hand. He couldn't help but be charmed by the man's open smile, hinting that he was genuinely glad to make his acquaintance. "The pleasure's all mine," he replied with a grin as their hands separated. "But call me Duo. You speak English really well, probably better than I do."

"I spent some time in the states, attending two years at U.C.L.A."

He wasn't sure what U.C.L.A. was, but he'd be damned before he admitted that to either of the two people watching him. So he did what Quatre had advised during his first large society party. Grinning, he nodded his head and said. "Is that so?"

Dorothy giggled behind her hand as if she knew all about the blending tactic while Atreus momentarily looked confused. Yet a heartbeat later he smiled again and replied, "Yes, but that was several years ago." Turning back to Dorothy he said, "But today is a good day, when old friends meet again. Mama is eagerly awaiting your arrival." He offered his arm to Dorothy. "Shall we?"

"Yes," she replied, slipping her small hand under his arm. "I can't wait to see everyone."

With a wave of his hand, Atreus motioned for Duo to walk with them down the dock. He picked up Dorothy's suitcase and followed. A white Mercedes Benz convertible, parked just off the quay, appeared in the distance and he guessed it was their mode of transportation.

"Mother is hoping you will stay not only for tonight, but that you can extend your stay with us for several days," Atreus said with a hopeful expression. He then looked to Duo and added, "Accept our invitation and tonight you will enjoy a bed that doesn't rock. You are new to sailing, yes?

"Does it show?" he asked.

The other man laughed softly, "Not really, but the deep breath you took as you stepped onto the dock spoke volumes." Back to Dorothy he asked, "How long can you stay?"

"Only a day or two, Atreus," she replied. "Duo and I intend to cover as much ocean as we can within the month." The man's brown eyes shifted again from her to Duo, obviously trying to figure out their relationship.

"We're traveling companions," Duo supplied. "Both newly unemployed and trying to figure out what's next on the agenda."

"Ah." The other man nodded, but there remained a twinkle in his dark eyes that Duo couldn't help but wonder about. "Then all the better to eat well, drink deeply, and dream wildly while you are here."

Duo turned to Dorothy and smiled. "I think I'm gonna like this place."

"You'll absolutely be in love with it by the time we leave," she assured him as Atreus moved between them and put his arms over both their shoulders and began to lead the two travelers down the dock and towards his car.

It was a warm day, and Duo was glad for the lightweight clothing which he'd been persuaded to buy. Dorothy had dragged him into some fancy-ass store at the second port they had visited, and insisted he add some items to his "wardrobe". This morning she had also insisted he tuck the shirt into the waistband of his trousers. The style of clothing he was wearing was highly unusual for him as he preferred wearing jeans and t-shirts, but he had to admit they were comfortable. He just couldn't get the idea out of his head that he was channeling the look of Quatre Winner and doing a piss poor job of it, too.

Never having been to Greece, he studied the scenery through the window as the car maneuvered its way through heavily congested streets. The city, Atreus told him, was the island's capitol. The majority of buildings were white and behind him he could see the few high-rise structures.

As if reading his mind, the Greek continued. "We have a wide variety of hotels to support the many tourists who come to the island to enjoy our black beaches and wonderful wine"

"Black sand?" Duo asked. "Never seen that before."

"Volcanic," Dorothy explained. "This island was formed by a volcano." Duo looked at her with one eyebrow raised in question. "Don't worry," she added. "It's been inactive for over five hundred years."

"So there's absolutely zero chance it'll light up again while we're here?" He kept looking out the window for signs of volcanic action.

Dorothy laughed lightly. "No chance at all."

Atreus described the sights they passed as they continued further away from the port. They eventually escaped the city and drove into a more rural setting. All the while Dorothy and her friend conversed in a mixture of English and Greek.

Half an hour after leaving the yacht they pulled off the road and onto a private drive. The arch above the driveway held a wooden sign, and intricately carved into it was the name Argyros, the letters standing out amongst the carved leaves and vines. Almost immediately the driveway turned upward, olive trees to the left of the driveway and vineyards to the right. The car came to a stop in front of a white stucco-like structure that was impressive both in size and the landscaping surrounding it. It didn't surprise him that Dorothy's friends appeared more than a little well off. Actually, "Stinkin' rich" was the phrase that came to his mind.

The car doors swung open at the same time a group of people, looking closely related despite the obvious differences in age, poured out of the home's double entry doors. Dorothy was warmly greeted as the group embraced, hugged and kissed her. Then every eye turned towards the stranger in the group and a wave of tension coursed through him. He was generally a friendly person, but warm greetings, like those he'd just witnessed, were strictly limited to a very select few close friends, not strangers.

"My friends," Dorothy began, smiling happily as she turned to him. "Let me introduce you to my traveling companion, Duo Maxwell."

She then proceeded to introduce him to every person present, pointing to each as she said their name and position in the family. While this bit of business was conducted, he noted their eyes were taking his measure while smiling politely. He nodded to each one as she said their name, hoping he was doing this correctly. He didn't want to seem as uncouth as he felt.

It wasn't difficult to identify the leader of the family, it was the older woman and matriarch, Athena Stephanapolis. She alone had taken a step forward and lightly kissed both of his cheeks before stepping back to say in heavily accented English, "Welcome, Mr. Maxwell, to Argyros, our humble home."

Behind the older, slightly round figured woman came barely stifled snickering. She ignored them and took Dorothy's arm. "It's a pleasure to have you here, my dears. Delicious wine from our cellars have been chilled and there is much delicious food to eat. It has been too long since your last visit, Dorothy. You must tell me all about your life in Sanq. That is where you are living, no?"

"It is, "Dorothy replied with a smile. "Though I'm not sure how much longer I'll be there."

"Trouble?" The older woman asked with a sharp look in her eye that Duo defined as maternal and protective. I looked like Dorothy had an ally in the matronly woman.

"No. Just a job change."

Athena laughed, her dark eyes sparkling. "You have no need for job. If you need to fill your days, you come and live here on Santorini. I'll put you in charge of these sons of mine. Perhaps you'll marry Pieter and make me a very happy woman by providing me with grandchildren before I meet my end."

"Mama," one of the males from behind the older woman called out with a light tone of chastisement.

"What?" Athena said over her shoulder, a look of mock surprise on her face. "Am I being unreasonable to want grandchildren? It is all I desire before God above decides I'm of no further use here."

There were several grunts of disapproval at that statement, and Duo decided that the topic of marriage, responsibility and grandchildren was an old argument between mother and sons.

"But surely Alexios and his wife will give you the grandchildren you crave." Dorothy said, obviously having some insight into the Stephanopolis family.

A look of pain crossed the older woman's face. "Calia has done her best. There had been two unsuccessful pregnancies and the doctors counsels her not to try again. She and I have shared our grief and now look to my other sons to do their duty."

Duo held back from joining the conversation. There wasn't anything he could contribute, not with his lack of experience in being part of a family or what was expected of family members. The only thing he'd had similar to a family had been his street gang, well, and the orphanage. On the streets, everyone in the gang had a responsibility for bringing in food and protecting each other, especially the youngest kids. From the conversation between Dorothy and the older woman, he figured getting married and having children was apparently of the utmost importance to this particular Greek family. He vaguely recalled Quatre's sisters badgering him along similar lines. Marriage and an heir. Wufei, also from a prosperous family, had married young, though there had been no time for children before his wife had died. Maybe marriage and babies were something rich people obsessed over. He made a mental note to ask Quatre about it next time they spoke.

Athena turned her attention back to him. Moving forward and looping her arm though his she indicated with a wave of her hand that they should walk towards the home's open entry. "Come, Mr. Maxwell. Let us have our wine and then I should like to hear about you and how it is that you are traveling with my precious girl."

"Not much to tell," he replied, escorting her forward and noting that Dorothy had taken Atreus's arm and the rest of the family fell in behind them. With eyes that studied him intently for a moment, the older woman said, "Your eyes say something altogether different, and that's the tale I wish to hear."

Though the older woman was charming and inquisitive, she was also polite and perceptive when he evaded answering questions about his past, and moved onto another topic. His intended to keep his hostess and her family ignorant of the fact that they had a former Gundam pilot at their dinner table. That information was on a need-to-know basis, and it generally didn't lead to polite conversation. The atmosphere remained light, and laughter was frequently heard while they sipped fine wine and ate small sandwiches and a variety of fresh fruit before Atreus escorted them to their rooms upstairs, conveniently located next to each other.

Entering the bright and airy room assigned to him, he saw that his duffel back had been left on the chair next to the dresser. He turned and thanked Atreus again for the hospitality. After receiving the man's assurance that he was more than welcome, the Greek turned and retreated towards the staircase and returned to the main floor.

That is one fine looking guy, Duo said to himself before closing the bedroom door. He leaned against the door for a moment to survey the room before him, noting the off-white walls, landscape paintings on the walls, an antique looking dresser and matching bed frame and headboard. Nice.

Performing a ritual quick inspection, he decided the room was safe and free of listening devices. He then moved to open two of the glass doors leading to the small balcony that offered a spectacular view of the sloping vineyard. Off in the distance was the pale blue ocean, sparkling brightly under the late afternoon sun. The scene before him was beautiful, peaceful even, and for a moment he tried to imagine what it might have been like to have grown up in such a place like this.

Having been an orphan on a desperately poor space colony, having a glimpse of a tightknit family in a beautiful home was unlike anything he'd ever known. Sure, he and his gang had been close and depended on each other for survival, and even the Sweepers seemed brotherly, but the closeness this family and the obvious love they had for one another was beyond anything he'd ever experienced. This, he supposed, was what most people would consider being normal. He felt a twinge of sadness at realizing he would probably never know what it was like to have a traditional family, with a wife and children to carry on his name. Not with the direction his heart was leading him.

Damn, he'd actually depressed the hell out of himself in less than thirty seconds. He had to pull himself together in the next few minutes because he was expected to return downstairs and share the evening meal with their hosts.

A soft knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. Reluctantly leaving the balcony, he crossed the room to open the door. Dorothy stood on the other side.

"Just wanted to know if there was anything you needed."

"Ah, no. I'm fine." Then tugging on the end of his braid he added, "Just feeling a bit like a fish out of water."

"How so?" she asked with a curious tilt of her blond head.

"You know, being surrounded by a large tight-knit group of people all related to each other."

It took a moment before a look of understanding showed in her blue eyes, then a sad smile appeared. "I understand, Duo. I sometimes feel that way, too, but that's what we have friends for, right? To fill in for the family we don't have. And believe me, by the time we leave here, you'll feel like one of the family. They have a way of bringing even strays like us into the fold."

He chuckled at the idea. "Guess that makes you and me some sort of unofficial siblings."

She gave him a quizzical look. "Would that be so terrible?"

"No," he answered with a grin, a bit surprised by that admission. "That wouldn't be so bad."

"For me, either." For a moment the two of them simply stood and grinned at each other.

With a little chuckle, Dorothy said, "I'll knock on your door when I'm done with the bathroom, then you can take a turn."

"Sounds good."

Her smile remained as she turned and walked away. Closing the door to his room, he noticed his mood was a lot better after his conversation with her.

Dinner was a lovely affair, with a gentle and warm Mediterranean breeze flowing gently through the open doors of the dining room where a delicious meal was served in a relaxed, friendly atmosphere. Duo found himself becoming more and more comfortable with his hosts, enjoying their stories and joking banter.

Along with the Stephanopolis family, several other guests had gathered around the large dining table, including a daughter-in-law and several friends. Atreus introduced them to the other guests. First was his fiancé, Marta Boosalis, a young, beautiful and curvaceous heiress dressed in flowing knee-length yellow dress. Her raven hair was pulled back tightly away from her face to the crown of her head, where it was gathered into a thick ponytail secured by a gold band. The lustrous fall of hair fell loose down her back, ending several inches above her slender waist. With dark expressive eyes, a sculptured nose and generous lips, she was a stunning woman. She smiled politely at them while introductions were made, her hand resting on her future husband's arm, and looking like an untouchable Greek Goddess.

The next introduction was Atreus's childhood friend, Ari, short for Aristotle. Ari Stratori appeared to be around Atreus' age. He wore off-white linen trousers and a thin beige cotton shirt that seemed to flow over the rich brown skin of the dark haired man. The man stood just about even with Duo's own height of five foot seven, and despite a more pronounced nose, he had a classically handsome face that looked similar to the beautiful statues he'd seen in museums. There could be no denying that Ari Santorini was a very handsome man who radiated confidence and sophistication. He spoke and laughed with ease and added to the conversation with intelligent comments and a sharp wit. Duo was impressed by him, but no more than he was with the family how were their hosts. They reminded him of Quatre, who had a way of making everyone at ease, even in the most uncomfortable circumstances.

The evening passed pleasantly with conversation, food, soft background music, and several glasses of wine. It was quite late when the guests started to leave and the family began to drift off to their rooms for the night. After thanking their hosts for putting them up for the night, Duo walked Dorothy to her room and bid her goodnight at her door. He was more than ready to find his own bed. Funny how a night of politely carrying on conversation could wear a person out.

He slept deeply and dreamlessly, which may have been the result of drinking wine with dinner and a shot of ouzo with dessert. Yet his sleep ended abruptly when a woman's scream for help brought him to instant consciousness. He sat up, flinging the sheet aside, automatically searching the room for trouble. He blinked rapidly at the soft sunshine coming through the open window of his room, the long curtains softly billowing caused by the slight morning breeze. It took a moment to remember where he was, and less than thirty seconds after that to pull on his trousers and bolt out of the room. He ran down the stairs and reached the back garden moments later. There he found several family members who had arrived ahead of him. Everyone seemed visibly distraught.

"What's going on?" he asked, searching their grief stricken faces.

"It's Marta," Athena gasped, pointing towards the lower garden with a shaky hand. "She's dead."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Unexpected

By: Dyna Dee

Standard disclaimer: I don't own GW, don't profit from it either.

Part 7

Mentally cataloging his observations at a crime scene was an important part of Preventer training. While studying the family members, still clustered closely together, Duo noted the grief and disbelief etched on their faces appeared to be genuine. He moved away from them, heading for the edge of the tiled patio to get a look at the deceased woman.

Less than ten feet from where they family stood and several steps down the incline, lay the body of the beautiful woman he'd met the night before. The skirt of her yellow dress was twisted around her, now smudged with dirt. He moved forward to investigate further only to have someone step in his way.

"The authorities have been called. You should not touch her." He looked up at the taller man to see it was Pieter, eldest of the three brothers. Wrapped in a cotton robe, the man's face was pale, his brown hair mussed indicating he'd either had a really bad night or had been repeatedly running his hands through it.

"I was a Preventer agent until a few days ago," he stated. "I know better than to disturb the body. I just want to see if I can discover what happened."

"It's obvious she slipped and fell," Pieter said while, shifting just enough to manage to glance at glance at the body. "She always insisted on wearing those ridiculously high heels. Now they have served to be the death of her."

He noticed the woman's feet, that they were bare. A quick look around the area helped locate the two yellow, high-heeled shoes: one on its side in the dirt, a few feet below the body. the other was in an upright position, several feet from the top of the stairs, looking like Marta had simply stepped out of it. The location of the shoes should tell him more about what happened.

It seemed to him that the upright shoe was too far away from the steps to back up the theory that she'd simply missed a step and had fallen to her death. The placement of her body seemed to indicate she had tripped in the dark while moving quickly, then stumbled several feet forward and missed the top step. From there she would have tumbled down the slope at considerable speed and broken her neck in the fall. One shoe had come off when she tripped, the other during the fall. That made sense.

"Let him have a closer look." Duo glanced over his shoulder to see Atreus step up behind him, his face moist from lingering tears and lined with grief.

After a slight hesitation, Pieter gave him a nod to proceed and moved aside.

"What's happened?" Dorothy's alarmed voice came from behind him.

Glancing over his shoulder, he watched her race from the house wearing what he thought might be her nightwear. A flowing floral robe billowed around her as Dorothy moved swiftly towards the family. The robe separated in the front as she ran, revealing a satin, knee-length shift beneath it, and slippers the exact same color on her feet. He wondered for a fleeting second if all rich people put as much thought into what they wore to bed as Dorothy seemed to? Why would anyone want to sleep in anything other than a T-shirt and boxers? Maybe it wasn't a rich thing, but a women thing. Honestly, he really didn't know much about either being wealthy or women. He'd have to ask Quatre, seeing as his friend knew a lot about both.

He turned away before Dorothy reached the tight group of family, refocusing on the victim. His traveling companion would have to get the sad news of Marta's demise from the family. He needed to concentrate on figuring out what really happened to Marta last night.

He began cataloging in his head his observations of the body. The deceased woman lay face down, sprawled across the flagstone steps leading to a path that seemed to lead to a garden and vineyard below the house. Her arms we're near her head, her long, slender legs awkwardly bent. Her head was in an unnatural position, indicating her neck had broken in the fall.

What a pity, he thought, that someone so young and beautiful, with so much to live for, should die in such a senseless manner. Recalling the conversations with family members the night before, he remembered Marta lived with her family on an adjacent property and had grown up with the Stephanopolis' children. Several times during the evening he'd heard Marta express excitement for her upcoming nuptials with Atreus, scheduled for the beginning of next year. Sadly, all of those plans and dreams for the future had come to an unexpected and tragic end.

Focusing again on the area around the deceased, he could see no visible footprints, blood or anything unusual on the patio or stairs. If there had been more than one person on the path last night, or some kind of altercation, he could find no visible proof of it. Without touching the body, he studied Marta's hands as they lay open. There appeared no evidence of blood under her fingertips. Other than being slightly scuffed up, her clothing appeared intact and her bare arms showed no sign of bruising. He concluded that from all outward appearances, it looked like her death was simply a tragic accident.

Yet something was telling him it just couldn't be that simple. The distance of her body from the top step, plus the fact that her neck appeared broken, seemed to indicate that she didn't just slip and fall. Oh, it was possible to fall and break your neck, but he just didn't buy it. The distance from the top step to where she lay seemed a bit too far for her to have simply stumbled and fallen with enough force to break her neck. It would make more sense to assume she'd been running and missed the first step... or that she'd been pushed by someone with considerable strength.

Again, the question remained, who would want to kill Marta? Did she have enemies in the Stephanopolis family? What could be the motive? those questions and possible answers swirled around in his head. He straightened and stepped back to wait for the authorities. Judging from the sounds of the approaching sirens, it wasn't going to be much longer.

Standing at a slight distance from the grieving family members, he again took the opportunity to study them, one by one. Athena was at the center of the group, holding tightly to Atreus. Circling them was the eldest son Pieter, along with Alexios and his wife Calia, who must have just arrived on the scene. And of course there was Dorothy.

At that moment, she glanced his way and their eyes locked for a long moment. Then one pale eyebrow lifted in question. He thought she might be asking if this was an accident. He shrugged, telling her by that small movement that he hadn't made up his mind yet.

Knowing time was of the essence, he closed the gap between himself and the mourning group, hoping to get more answers by questioning the family. Once the police got there, he'd probably be pushed aside as a civilian and later questioned as to his whereabouts the night before. He figured there was no time like the present to get the investigation underway.

"Atreus, would you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?"

The grieving man raised his head away from his mother and looked at the former Preventer with disbelief written on his face. "I just lost my fiancé. Can't this wait until later?"

"Probably, but the police aren't going to wait to ask questions. I just think we should try and figure out what happened. You do want to find out what happened to Marta, don't you?"

Atrues stepped away from Athena and dry washed his face with both of his hands. Slowly lowering them a moment later, he took a breath and said, "You don't believe this was an accident, do you?"

"I'm not sure," Duo replied solemnly. "But I think after a few questions we can rule out any foul play."

"Foul play?" Athena tuned to look him. Her anguished eyes were still overflowing with tears and her accent was noticeably stronger, her voice trembling with emotion as she chastised him. "Mr. Maxwell, you are surely mistaken. How could you think anyone here would harm Marta intentionally? We, who have known her all her life and love her? She was soon to be a part of our family. If you must, ask your questions and put aside any doubt you may have of her death being anything other than a tragic accident."

He nodded, silently reminding himself to go easy on these people. They weren't hardened criminals, terrorists or the anarchists that he usually dealt with, just a nice family who happened to have a dead woman in their backyard.

"Marta was still here when I went to bed," he began. "Who was the last to see her?"

"I was," Atreus volunteered, his voice hitching as he struggled to compose himself and suppress his grief. "We said goodnight after she told me of her plans to go down to the city this afternoon to try on her wedding gown, which arrived last week. I offered to walk her home, but she insisted I go to bed since Ari and I had plans to go sailing this morning."

"Did she leave by the front or back door?"

"I didn't see her leave the house, but I assume she went out the back. She turned away from me, after saying goodnight, and went towards the kitchen while I went upstairs."

"I recall Marta saying she lived with her parents, but where is that exactly? It must be close if she was going to walk alone at night."

"There," Athena said, pointing to her right.

Duo looked in the direction indicated. Over the garden wall and about a quarter mile across a well maintained vineyard he could see the upper half of a large house, not dissimilar in appearance to the Stephanopolis' home.

"My husband's family has lived on this land for one hundred and fifty six years," Athena said softly as her gaze remained fixed on the distant home. "The Boosalis family settled there just over a century ago. The marriage between Atreus and Marta was arranged when they were fourteen years old. Everyone in both families were agreeable to the match. Theirs would have been a joyful union, joining our families and properties. Poor Elestra, she is never going to recover from the death of her daughter." The older woman was overcome with sorrow at that point. She turned to Atreus once more for comfort, burying her face against her youngest son's chest.

Hearing the ululating sirens drawing closer, Duo anticipated the next step in the investigation. "The police are going to need to know who was in the house or on the property last night. I don't think I can spell everyone's names, so if one of you could make a list, it will help move things along."

"I'll do it," Pieter volunteered. "I just need a pen and paper." Turning towards the house, no doubt with the intention to obtain those two items, he paused in passing his mother to touch the back of her head. Leaning close, he softly said, "I'll be back in a moment, Mama."

The eldest son continued across the patio and disappeared into the house though the door adjacent to the kitchen. It was only a matter of a few minutes before he reappeared with four policemen in tow. A middle aged man in a white shirt and black uniform walked in front of the other uniformed men, in an obvious position of leadership.

Athena looked up at the sound of footfalls on the patio stone and quickly turned out of her son's protective embrace to stretch her hands out towards the approaching officer. He reached out in turn and clasped her hands in his own.

"Oh, Nikoli," she said, tears flowing down her cheeks. "Thank goodness you have come. You must tell us what to do. It's Marta." She pointed toward the direction of the body. "She's fallen off the garden steps and is dead. Cyrus and Elestra are going to be devastated when they hear the news, as we all are. Oh, Niko, I'm so glad you are here."

From how Athena had addressed the man, Nikoli was obviously acquainted with both families, Duo thought. He watched as the officer spoke softly to the distraught woman before giving her back to her son. He then straightened and asked everyone to stay back.

Of course, Duo stepped forward. "This way, inspector."

The four policemen looked at the newcomer, a stranger to them all. The man in charge, whom Athena had called Nikoli asked, "Who are you?"

"Duo Maxwell," he replied, looking the inspector in the eye while extending his right hand. "My traveling companion and I arrived yesterday, and the Stephanopolis family kindly invited us to stay the night."

Accepting the handshake, the inspector replied, "Nikolas Bakas, Chief Inspector. I would ask you, please, to not leave the island until we have concluded our investigation."

"Of course."

"Now, if you will step back with the family, I can proceed."

Clearing his throat, the braided man interjected, "I was a Preventer agent until recently, and, if you'll permit me, I might be able to help with your investigation."

"Preventer?" The salt and peppered haired man wore a look of disbelief on his tanned and weathered face.

"I can vouch for him and that what he says is true," Dorothy stated, taking a step towards Duo. "Until a few days ago Mr. Maxwell was employed by Preventers. He is currently acting as my traveling companion and bodyguard."

One white eyebrow rose as the inspector looked at the young woman addressing him. "And you are?"

"Dorothy Catalonia, also from Sanq. Until recently, I was employed by Relena Peacecraft."

Surprise showed on the older man's face once again. Of course he'd heard of the former Queen of the World, though Relena held that title for a very short time.

"You will not mind if I corroborate your claims?"

"As you wish," Dorothy replied coolly. "But I don't see what our past employment has to do with Marta's death. We arrived here yesterday afternoon, had a lovely evening with the family, and then retired for the night. That's all there was to it. I recall Marta from previous visits, but we were both much younger. Duo had not met her before our arrival."

Duo thought Dorothy sounded a bit defensive. There was a hint of sharpness in her voice even though she appeared outwardly cool and calm. Stepping forward, before his traveling companion could say something to upset the inspector, he said, "Please, Inspector Bakas, let me show you the body and you can come to your own conclusion on how Miss Boosalis died."

The man seemed agreeable to returning to the matter at hand. Duo led him to the end of the patio, and then followed the inspector down the five steps. The officer bent at the waist and carefully studied the dead woman's body.

"Broken neck," he stated.

He next turned his focus to her arms, hands and feet, then looked for her missing shoes, the yellow strapped sandals with five-inch heels. His dark eyes looked from the one shoe to the other, the wheels turning in his mind.

"Interesting."

Duo inwardly grinned, thinking the man, like himself, had some doubts about Marta's fall being an accident, proving the inspector knew his business. Still, he waited for the man in charge to ask for his opinion. Several minutes later the coroner arrived and began to take pictures of the body and the inspector climbed back up the stairs to speak with the family. He instructed everyone to return to their bedrooms and get dressed. They were not to speak to each other and they would be called, one by one, to be interviewed by him in the parlor.

Along with the others, Duo obediently returned to his room as instructed. He showered, dressed and then waited a full two hours before a knock sounded on his door. It wasn't surprising that he was the last to be interviewed. No doubt the inspector had taken the time to check up on his claim of having been with Preventers. Having received that confirmation, he figured the man might be ready to talk about what conclusions he might have come up with.

Following the uniformed officer down the staircase, he caught sight of Dorothy in the dining room. She acknowledged him by raising a piece of toast in his direction. His stomach growled. Hopefully the interview would be short and he could join her for breakfast. He was damn hungry.

Entering the formal living room, Duo acknowledged the man sitting on the sofa. "Inspector Bakas. It looks like I'm the last to be interviewed."

"Other than the staff in attendance last evening, you are the last of the evening's guests. I understand that you and Miss Catalonia retired to your rooms shortly before Marta left for the evening."

"Yes. I escorted Dorothy to her room before going to my own. I undressed and climbed into bed, falling asleep almost immediately. I woke up this morning to the sound of a scream, threw on some clothes and ran downstairs to find Athena, her sons and daughter-in-law on the patio. All appeared very distressed. They told me Marta was dead, and I found her exactly as you did when you arrived. From the position of her neck, I didn't have to check her pulse to know that she was dead."

"Did you speak with Marta last night?"

"I spoke to just about everyone in the family, you know, just trying to be friendly. But I only exchanged a few words with her. She was in the living room, conversing with Atreus and Ari when Dorothy and I said goodnight."

The man with the thick, salt and pepper hair and eyebrows jotted a note on his notepad and nodded his head. "You're currently acting as Miss Catalonia's traveling companion and bodyguard. An unusual step down from your last job. Of course I contacted the Preventer headquarters and Director Une spoke directly with me. She was quite surprised to find you in the young lady's company. She told me you were officially on medical leave. This is true?"

"Yeah, but I quit my job because I was being forced to take the leave."

The man looked at him with skepticism. "She seemed to believe you would be returning."

With an insouciant shrug he replied, "Well, she can think whatever she wants, but that doesn't mean she's right."

He noticed the man's mouth twitched upward.

"I take it you don't like being ordered around by a woman?" the officer questioned, but didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "Then again, that's not so hard to imagine." The man gave a knowing shake of his head. "You're young and obviously hot-headed. You have much yet to learn. When you marry, a woman will lead you around like a bull with a ring through its nose, and most of the time it is not a bad thing."

Noticing the protruding belly and a wedding band on the man's finger, Duo figured the guy was speaking from personal experience.

He smiled at the inspector. "Thankfully, I'm not the marrying kind."

"No?" The constable looked surprised for a moment and then he smiled. "That is what all men believe, at one time or another. Take my word, Mr. Maxwell, when the right lady comes along, you will succumb and fall just like the rest of us."

The man wasn't totally off the mark. He had met the right person, but that didn't necessarily guarantee a happy ending. He stifled the urge to tell the inspector just how wrong he was about finding the right "lady", but then decided it wasn't worth it. Besides, whose business was it whether he was straight or in love with a guy who just happened to be his best friend? In light of what was going on, his personal life needed to take back stage to solving the cause of Marta's death.

"You've talked with all of the family, right?" he asked, resting his booted ankle over his thigh and leaning back in his chair. "Do you mind telling me what you've learned? I might be able to help with your investigation, if you'll allow me."

The older man folded his arms over his substantial belly. "It's a fairly cut and dry case, Mr. Maxwell. The young lady obviously slipped and fell down the stairs, breaking her neck. A very unfortunate ending."

"That's your conclusion?"

The inspector eyes squarely met his own. "What appears obvious is usually not the answer. For myself, I'm not certain Marta's death was an accident."

"It's nice to know we're on the same page," said Duo. "The angle and distance of the body from the top of the landing and the placement of the shoes indicates there was some force behind her fall."

The older man wasn't ready to concede just yet. "She might have been running and tripped on the top step, which would certainly account for speed.

The medical examiner will be able to tell if there are any unusual markings on her upper body or legs. Tell me, what do you suspect happened?"

"I'm thinking she was pushed or thrown from the top landing." Duo watched the older man's face for his reaction.

The inspector seemed to be considering the possibilities carefully. At last he nodded. "For what reason?"

"That's what you need to discover," Duo replied. "Someone here last night must have either been very angry with her, enough to forcibly push her, or they seriously wanted to kill her."

Flipping open his wallet he removed his Preventer ID card and handed it to the other man.

"I'm no longer active, as you already know, but my cell phone number on this card is correct." He stood and leaned forward to offer his hand to the policeman. "If you'd like my help, all you have to do is ask. It would be helpful if you'd let me know of any irregularities in the forensic report when it's released. With your permission, I'm going to speak with the family and see if I can learn anything more."

"You will be acting unofficially, of course," the older man affirmed.

"Absolutely."

Closing his small notebook and putting it into his shirt pocket, the officer said, "I officially request that you and Miss Catalonia stay on the premises until the investigation has concluded. I will speak with Athena about you remaining here at the house until that time."

Dorothy was waiting in his room when he returned, stretched out on the bed, her sandals on the floor. "Okay, spill," she said while swinging her legs around and rising to sit on the edge of the mattress, her eyes never leaving his face.

"It seems the good inspector and I think alike," he said, sitting next to her and putting one foot over his knee. He bent to unlace his boot.

"How so?"

"Neither of us believes Marta fell from the top step."

Dorothy's eyes widened with interest. "She was pushed?"

"Possibly."

"Who? Who would do that to her? I can't believe anyone here would want her dead."

"How well do you know everyone, Dorothy? When was the last time you visited Agryos"

"Not since before the wars."

"Which is years. People grow up and change over the course of 5 or 6 years. But we're not going to jump to conclusions. We have a bit of detective work to do, and if we do it well, we'll discover exactly what happened to Marta."

The excited gleam in the blond woman's eyes was something he'd never see in Dorothy's eyes before. "I'm not sure the local constable will be too pleased to have us interfering with his investigation," she said, though the grin on her face indicated she really wasn't overly concerned about stepping on the local policeman's toes.

He gave her a conspiratorial wink. "I have his unofficial permission to snoop around. I figure that means the both of us. Having been requested to remain here, we've got a perfect opportunity for discovering what happened last night. We can ask the family and household staff questions and try to uncover a reason why anyone would want Marta dead."

He paused a moment, feeling a moment of doubt about involving a civilian in a murder investigation. Homicide wasn't his specialty; he was more of a munitions and infiltration man at Preventers, or, at times, a mission planner. Yet, truth be told, he was more than a little intrigued by the thought of finding out what happened the night before. How did Marta, a beautiful and seemingly charming woman, come to her end on the stairs of a garden path?

He looked at his traveling companion and saw excitement brimming in Dorothy's eyes. Damn, it was pretty clear from that look there was no way in hell he was going to be able to keep her out of the investigation.

Standing, because he did his best thinking on his feet, he rubbed his hands together. "All right. We'll start immediately. I'll spend the afternoon talking to the men of the household while you speak to the women. Find out if Marta's marriage to Atreus was a problem for anyone, if anyone in the family or staff might have been upset with her? We'll meet up after dinner and compare notes."

"Excellent!" Dorothy's smile was so bright with anticipation it could have lit up the room.

"Remember to be tactful," he cautioned, hoping to curb a bit of that enthusiasm. "These people are grieving."

The face she made told him that she'd been offended by his advice.

Lifting her chin slightly, she replied, "I can be quite sensitive to the feelings of others. Don't forget, these people are my friends. I have no intention of causing them any additional pain."

He sighed. "Sorry, Dot, I didn't mean to offend. Just... try to act normal and not obvious that you're looking for information."

Dorothy huffed, "I may not be a trained, experienced Preventer agent, but I know how to conduct myself in any social gathering. Don't worry about me, Duo. I've got it covered."

What choice did he have but to trust her?

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Unexpected**

By: Dyna Dee

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit f rom writing about GW characters.

Part 8

Lunch was, predictably, a simple and somber affair. Though most of the family had gathered in the dining room, no one seemed inclined to talk or have much of an appetite. Mrs. Stephanopolis looked to have aged ten years from the night before. Her dark eyes were puffy, red and brimming with tears threatening to spill over. Sitting at the table with her were two of her sons, Atreus and Alexios, as well as the latter's wife, Calia. Ari was also present and sitting to the left of Atreus. The eldest brother, he was told, was walking in the vineyard, having no appetite. Pieter, he'd learned from Dorothy, was a very successful businessman who lived and worked in Athens. He'd flown home several days earlier to celebrate Alexios's birthday, which they'd missed by two days.

The conversation during the meal was stilted. The two brothers present switched from being lost in their own thoughts to being overly solicitous of their mother's grief and concern for her welfare. She, in turn, tried her best to allay their worries offered gentle words of comfort to Atreus.

The grief he was witnessing appeared to be real, but he knew better than most that looks could be deceiving. It could be that someone in the Stephanopolis family, the household staff or guests, had harbored a dislike or resentment for Marta. But if that was the case, was their dislike of the woman really enough to have given her a deadly shove down the garden steps?

Duo felt a little guilty for having cleaned his plate, especially when the meal had barely been touched by any of the family members. Athena pleaded a headache and excused herself to retire to her room, signaling the end of the uncomfortable noonday meal. After nodding in Dorothy's direction, Duo stood and followed the men through the french doors to the patio. He trusted his traveling companion to corner and speak to the women of the house.

"Have you heard from Marta's family?" Alexios asked his brother as he pulled out an expensive looking silver case, opened it, and carefully selected a dark papered cigarette.

He extended the case to Duo first and then to the other two men after he mumbled a quiet no thanks. Ari was the only one to take one. Duo watched as the two men lit their cigarettes from Alexios's lighter and took a long drag before letting the smoke pass out slowly from their lips.

Atreus answered, "I called the house earlier, but the line was busy. I'm assuming they're not ready to speak with anyone, not that I can blame them."

"If I didn't say so before" Duo turned to Atreus, "I am sorry for your loss and for Dorothy and I intruding on you during this difficult time. We were instructed by the inspector not to leave here until he gives us the okay."

"It's not your fault," the other man replied, his young, handsome face and eyes were lined with sadness.

"I obviously didn't know Marta, but she seemed lovely."

And that was all he had to say before the two brothers began reminiscing freely about the young deceased woman. Ari, he noticed, had little to add to the conversation.

It wasn't until evening that the two travelers met again at dinner. The Stephanopolis family, Ari in tow, had wandered into to the dining room at the traditional dinner hour, more out of habit than any desire to eat. As with the earlier meal, the wonderfully aromatic meal had been laid out buffet style on the credenza. Athena had sent word with Pieter that she was too fatigued to eat and would remain in her room for the evening. Her absence did not ease the bleakness that hovered like a wet blanket over the entire house.

Duo, his plate holding a substantial amount of food, sidled up to Dorothy as she picked up a dinner plate of her own and began making selections from the food offered.

"How was your afternoon?" he asked. Though he'd kept his voice down, it seemed ridiculously loud in the near silent room.

She turned her head to silently mouth, "Productive."

One corner of his mouth lifted as he replied in kind, "Likewise."

Excusing themselves after dinner with the explanation of letting the family have time together, they left the dining room. Their excuse was not a complete fabrication. Though the inspector had requested she and Duo remain at the house until their investigation concluded, they had both expressed feeling awkward being present during a time when most people would prefer to grieve in private. Uncomfortable as it may be, being under the same roof was advantageous for investigating Marta's death.

Dorothy recalled Ari from her earlier visits to Argyros. He had been a frequent visitor during the summers she'd spent with the family. Now, as when they were children, he seemed very attached to Atreus. As far as she knew, Ari had always been accepted as an extension of the family, so it wasn't unusual for him to be present in the Stephanapolis home under the current circumstances.

With her hand tucked through Duo's arm, he led her out the French doors and into the cooler evening air. The sun was just setting in the evening sky as they strolled toward the garden area. The red-gold reflecting off distant clouds, promised a beautiful sunset.

With a shared look, they made an un-spoken agreement to refrain from speaking for the time being, not wanting to be overheard. She pointed down the path and they set off in that direction, off the patio, descending the steps where Marta had been found just that morning. They proceeded further down the well-worn stone path to where Dorothy knew a bench and some privacy could be found.

Before long they were seated on the garden bench, and both of them began to speak at the same time, then stopped and quietly laughed.

Duo grinned. "Ladies first."

Good, she felt as if she were going to burst if she didn't get to speak. "Thank you." She was excited about what she'd learned. "I spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen. Kalista, the family's cook, is very upset, chasing everyone out of the room with her weeping. Well, every one other than myself, of course. Seizing the opportunity, I sympathized with her before finally getting her to tell me about Marta. It's true, you know, that the hired help knows just about everything that goes on in a household. After a glass or two of sherry, which I recommended to calm her nerves, she became very forthcoming."

Duo leaned forward, his stunning blue/violet eyes glistening with curiosity. "And?"

"It seems the lovely Marta was at odds with several members of the household. One," she held up her hand and lifted her index finger, "she was once very much infatuated with Pieter. According to Kalista, Marta, as a teenager, flirted shamelessly with him, regardless of the family's plans for her to marry Atreus. Her boldness was embarrassing to both families. Apparently her parents sent her to Athens to a private school with the intention of helping her overcome her infatuation."

"How did Pieter react to her flirting?"

"Kalista talks as if the Stephanopolis boys can do no wrong. She adamantly defends Pieter as a good son. Less directly, she hinted that, as a good brother, he he would never become involved with his brother's girlfriend. But what if he did?" He wouldn't be the first man to succumb to a beautiful girl's charms. What if they became lovers and Atreus found out? Jealousy, I'm told, can drive both men and women to extreme action."

Duo looked dubious. "Interesting, but a bit of a stretch and a big 'what if'. Is that the best you've got, Dot?"

Sticking her nose in the air, she declared, "That's just my first guess." He had the audacity to grin at her. "Alright then, let's hear your second theory."

Holding up her hand again, she displayed two fingers this time. "Alright. Number two. Kalista reported overhearing an argument between Marta and Atreus about the pressure his mother was putting on them to have children. It created no small amount of strife between the couple." She paused when remembering who she was talking about. The excitement she'd felt in delivering her theories to Duo had hit an emotional snag. She was talking about her friends, people she cared about, and that reminder emotionally deflated her enthusiasm.

More soberly now, she continued, her voice soft and pleading for understanding. "I know this family, Duo. I've lived here with them. I simply can't believe anyone in the family, especially Atreus, would hurt Marta or anyone else on purpose."

Duo reached forward and gave her forearm a gentle squeeze, trying to offer some comfort. "I know you don't like thinking any of your friends could have hurt her and, frankly, neither do I. We may not like the outcome of this investigation, but Marta didn't deserve to die. She deserves justice for having her life cut short."

"I know," she replied sadly. "I just don't want to believe it could be anyone in the family. They're good, decent people, Duo, as well as my friends."

His expression softened. "Yeah, I know what you mean. My friends mean a lot to me, too. And you're a good friend to this family, Dot. Guess I haven't been as good to my friends. What must they be thinking since my disappearance?" A look of guilt crossed his face.

He continued. "The guys have always had my back, and I can rely on them, trust them more than anyone else. Why didn't I remembered that when things went sour?"

"You weren't well, Duo," she replied. "You can always call them, let someone know you're alright," she suggested.

He tugged on the braid that hung over his right shoulder. "Yeah. Maybe. But honestly, if the guys know anything about me, they know I can take care of myself. I've always been pretty good at that." He then seemed to mentally shake himself, as if shifting gears and said, "But we can talk about my mistakes some other time. Right now we have a murder to solve."

She nodded. "Yes, you're right. Back to our theories."

Duo raised his eyes and met her gaze. He looked at her rather intently, and after a long moment he said. "In the short time we've been here, I've seen how much this family means to you and that they are good, decent people. But for the sake of the investigation, let's take your theories and put both Atreus and Pieter at the top your suspect list."

She gave him a slow nod of agreement. She hated suspecting her friends. It made her feel like a traitor.

"You're sure there's no other suspects?" he asked.

Her eyebrows drew together in thought. "I... I don't think so." Then tilting her head and narrowing her eyes with suspicion, she leaned towards him and asked. "Why? What did you find out?"

His small grin slowly turned smug as he replied, "Here's what I observed: The three brothers are close, but there's definitely some tension between them when Ari's around. He seems to wear on the nerves of Atreus' brothers. Pieter, especially, ignores him whenever possible. When he returned from his walk and joined us this afternoon, he was noticeably put off by Ari's presence, enough to be rude to him. I wasn't the only one to notice and it caused an argument between Peiter and Atreus. Alexios intervened and asked Ari to go home, which he did, though I thought he left reluctantly. I offered to see him out, and that's when I learned something new." He paused long enough for dramatic effect.

Frustrated, Dorothy blurted out, "What?"

"Ari is gay."

She blinked and shook her head. "What? No way."

He grinned triumphantly. "Yes way."

She leaned closer. "Did he hit on you?"

"No, but I caught him staring at my ass."

She blinked, surprised by his reply. "You're kidding me? That's your proof?" She shook her head and laughed. "Duo, anyone standing behind you will naturally stare at your... ah... derriere." She could feel her cheeks flaming as she explained. "After all, it is where your braid ends. Honestly, how many men have hair as long as yours? It's fascinating to look at."

"I'm pretty sure he was looking at more than my hair," he insisted. "You should have seen his eyes. I've seen that look before, and that is exactly what gave him away."

Her eyes rolled upward. "Well, you do have a very nice behind. Definitely better than mine."

Putting his hands up he firmly stated, "No way are we going to compare our, ah... assets. Not now, not ever."

Despite the seriousness of their investigation and conversation, she found herself laughing out loud. "I have no delusions that my shape lacks some of the more womanly curves, but that doesn't take away from the fact that your backside is perfect."

"Enough already." Duo laughed, blushing with embarrassment. "Let's get back to discussing our suspects." Their bantering had lightened the serious atmosphere considerably, but they both knew they had to turn from their moment of levity to their more somber investigation.

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath and straightening her shoulders. "You believe Ari is gay because he admired your backside? What does his being gay have to do with anything?"

"You can't guess?" Duo asked. "Think about it. Ari is Atreus' best friend, and from what I've observed he's always dogging the guy's heels." Leaning towards Dorothy, his eyes gleaming as he added, "Ari's in love with his best friend." Then leaning back in his chair he continued. "Take it from me, Dottie, I know firsthand what that's like. With Atreus being straight and not reciprocating his feelings, Ari would no doubt feel jealously, self-doubt and resentment towards the person who stole his love interest away. He left the house last night about the same time we headed to our rooms. The question is, did he really leave or did he circle around the back to confront Marta?"

Dorothy considered that idea for a long moment and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "So... what? He tells her to stay away from his crush and then pushes her down the stairs to make his point?"

Duo countered, "Maybe they argued, and in a fit of anger he shoved her and she fell down the garden stairs."

She studied her companion for a long moment. "I don't know Aristotle very well, but it's hard to believe he could do something like that."

"Maybe, maybe not, but he's definitely a suspect, having both a motive and opportunity."

She wasn't convinced. "That seems just as much of a bit of a stretch as you see my theories about Pieter and Atreus."

"You're right," he agreed, scratching the back of his head. "But speculation and theories are all we have going for us at the moment. We need proof, or better yet, a confession."

She agreed with a nod of her head. After a thoughtful moment she said, "I suggest we switch tactics tomorrow. I'll cozy up to the men in the family, be a sympathetic ear and see if I can learn anything more. You can lay on the charm and do the same with the women."

He looked at her dubiously, "You think that will work? I'm not so sure the ladies in the house will confide in me."

Dorothy grinned and raised one blonde eyebrow as she replied, "Why not? I did."

Day two bought Marta's grieving parents to the Stephanopolis home just after breakfast. Dorothy told him she only knew the Boosalis family in passing, which made their presence in the house of mourners even more awkward. Athena and family did their best to comfort their long-time friends, but to no avail. Eventually the grieving parents left to return to their home and the Stephanopolis famkily seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

Duo hoped for a private moment to speak with Athena, but once again she retreated to her room, visibly upset by the visit of Marta's parents.

The matriarch's departure left him to follow Calia, Alexios wife, to the kitchen. There he met the cook, the same woman who had spoken with Dorothy the day before. To his dismay, the older woman appeared to be as distraught as she had been the day before. Her eyes were red and filled with barely suppressed tears. She quickly turned away and busied herself with the dishes in the sink. Having no idea how to deal with a grieving female, he turned to Calia, who appeared much more composed.

"How are you holding up?" he asked her.

The attractive woman, dressed casually in a simple white blouse and short khaki skirt, turned to face him. She might not be crying, but her red and puffy eyes were proof that she had been.

"I'm alright," she answered with a heavy accent. "It was very difficult this morning, seeing Marta's parents' heartbreak and grief."

He gave her a commiserating nod before asking, "Were you and Marta friends?" Considering Marta had lived close by and had been Atrues' intended for years, he figured the two women knew each other well. He was wrong.

The dark haired woman shook her head. "No, but I believe we would eventually have grown closer after their marriage, when we would have more in common."

"And you didn't have much in common with her?"

The Grecian woman shrugged one shoulder and answered, "Marta was younger than I. She had a large appetite for expensive things: fast cars, jewelry, designer clothing and weekends in Athens. She liked going to the nightclubs. Life here on Santorini is much different from Athens. We spend a great deal of time overseeing the vineyards and family business."

Thinking out loud, he said, "With a lifestyle so different from yours, I'm surprised Marta was looking forward to getting married."

Calia's eyebrows rose. "There are advantages to marrying into the Stephanopolis family. Wealth and a step up in society."

"Those things were important to Marta?"

"Of course they were. Marta liked excitement as well as pretty, expensive things. But she was also a dutiful daughter and accepted the agreement her family had made with Athena. Marrying Atreus would have allowed her to continue living the lifestyle she enjoyed. But it wasn't the only thing in the world she craved. And be it luck or scheming. Marta always got what she wanted, one way or another. She would have married Atreus and benefitted from his money and position, but I doubt she would have changed enough to become the ideal mother of the next Stepahnopolis generation.

Then, as if regretting her frankness, Calia quickly added, "Oh, she would have eventually, reluctantly, given into Athena's demands for at least one child. But I've seen Marta with children before, and there was little in the way of motherly yearning in her. She told me, several months ago, that she had no plans of settling down until she was in her late thirties. Then she couldn't be bullied or badgered by Mother Athena into having more than one baby."

From the sink came a quiet, anguished voice speaking Greek.

He looked questioningly at Calia, wondering what was the matter. She translated. "Kalista says I mustn't speak unkindly of the dead."

"She understands English?"

"Yes. We all speak English when we have company. Kalista has learned to speak it over the years and carries on a conversation quite well ."

Duo figured this was his lead in. He turned his attention to the woman standing in front of the sink. "Did you know Marta very well, Kalista?"

Kalista turned with a look of surprise in her red-rimmed eyes. "How you know my name?" she asked with a heavy accent and broken English.

"My friend Dorothy mentioned she'd spoken with you yesterday. She said you were very upset."

The woman sniffed and raised the back of a red and wet hand to swipe at her leaking eyes. "Marta I know since she a little girl. It isn't right, losing one as beautiful as she."

"Was Marta kind to you?"

"She never unkind," Kalista replied. "Many times from Athens she bring me pasteli."

"It's a sweet," Calia informed him.

"That was very kind of her," Duo agreed.

He received a nod of the woman's head in return as she murmured tearfully, "Yes, very kind."

Glancing at Calia, he caught the upward roll of her eyes. She obviously didn't hold Marta in the same high regard as the hired help.

Turning his attention back to the woman still doing the dishes he said, "I only just met Marta, but I'd like to know more if you could tell me about her, that is if it's not too difficult for you."

Kalista paused at the sink for a moment before drying her hands. Then turning, she motioned to the small kitchen table.

"Please, sit. I make tea. Not speak good English, but I try to talk."

"Would you like to join us?" Duo asked Calia.

"I better not. I've a list of things that need attending to today. Perhaps another time."

She departed the room, going out the kitchen door towards the back patio, leaving Duo alone with the weepy yet talkative older woman. Kalista commenced to speak at length, for a good hour and through three cups of tea, about the recently departed Marta. In her broken English she painted a verbal picture of a beautiful and lively young woman who had been the hope of the Stephanopolis family for continuing the family line.

Duo left the kitchen when Kalista realized it was time to begin lunch preparations. After drinking so much tea, he was anxious to make his escape and find a bathroom. Afterward attending to that need, he walked through the house looking for Dorothy and wondered if she'd had any luck getting the men to talk to her about Marta.

The house was quiet and felt empty. He chanced upon Athena sitting alone in the living room, her head bowed over a photo album she held in her hands. This was his first chance to speak alone with the matriarch of the family since Marta's body had been discovered. Stepping into the room, he paused, waiting for her to look up to see who had entered. Her head lifted slightly and red rimmed eyes peered at him from behind wire glasses.

"Can I get you some tea, Ma'am?" he asked, taking a couple of steps into the room.

"That's very kind of you, but no, thank you." Taking a deep breath, the older woman uttered a shaky sigh, sounding weary. "I apologize for being such a poor hostess, Mr. Maxwell, but I'm sure you understand."

"I do, so please don't worry about it. I'm just sorry to be intruding on your grief. I'm afraid Dorothy and I have to stay until the police give us permission to leave. You're very kind to put us up until then."

"It is the least we can do," Athena said, then lowered her eyes back down to the photo album, her hand resting on a picture of a little girl.

"I've known Marta since she was a baby. Her mother and I attended school together, though we didn't always get along as children and were often rivals for the attention of boys."

"Are you close now?"

"In some ways, yes, as neighbors with similar interests. Our lands and families have kept us busy through the years; though joining our families, sharing grandchildren, would have brought us together more often." She paused to dab at the corners of her eyes with a white linen handkerchief that was wrinkled with use.

"Marta was your hope for grandchildren?"

The woman paused, her spine straightened slightly. "Together she and Atreus would have made beautiful children."

"I understand Marta wasn't so keen on having kids right away."

Athena looked up sharply and demanded, "Who told you such a thing?"

"One of the women I spoke to earlier."

The older woman took a moment to digest this bit of news, then quietly said, "Marta was young and overly indulged by her parents. I'm certain that once she settled into married life she would have craved a child, as women do."

"Not everyone is cut out to be a mother."

The older woman looked insulted by his comment. "Motherhood is the reward of being a woman."

He shuffled uncomfortably at being at odds with the older woman. "Well, ah, yeah, I can only take your word for that. But I've been told young women these days might have other plans for their lives, other than giving birth to and raising a hoard of kids."

"Young women can also be foolish." Athena snapped irritably as she placed the photo album on the table and rose to her feet. "If you'll excuse me, there is something I need to do."

Duo watched the matriarch briskly leave the room. He'd obviously upset her with his comments about Marta's lack of interest in having a baby. Not sure what to make out of the failed conversation, he left the living room in search of someone else to question.

Through a window, he spotted Dorothy sitting on the back patio with Pieter. Their expressions and demeanor hinted at a serious conversation. Not wanting to interrupt, he turned and walked away, trusting Dorothy to get whatever information she could. Strolling around the house and finding no one else to question, he returned to his room and waited to be called to lunch.

With nothing else to occupy him, he removed his shoes and lay back on the bed, going over the earlier conversations. He made a mental note to call the Inspector Dukakis to see if he'd heard from the coroner yet. As he began to doze off, he wondered fleetingly what Heero might be doing.

A sound woke him with a start. Remaining still, he listened for it again, but all was quiet. He dismissed it as having been some household noise. After all, there were a lot of people in the home.

Sitting up, he stretched his arms out from his shoulders then high above his head, yawning all the while. Man, he was getting soft, taking naps in the early afternoon. What would Heero have to say about that? He knew for a fact Mr. Perfect would never waste a productive moment of the day for a bit of shuteye. It was a lucky thing for him that he wasn't as single minded as his friend, because he felt much better, healthier and more alert after every nap he indulged in.

Glancing at the alarm clock on the bedside table, he realized only an hour had passed. Hum... where was Dorothy? Standing, he stretched once more before putting on his shoes. Opening the bedroom door he glanced down and found a linen-covered tray. Lifting the cloth, he smiled after seeing what was beneath it; his lunch. His grinned widened, pleased to think that Dottie was looking out for him, leaving food for him and not disturbing his rest. He couldn't help liking her more with each passing day. She was proving to be a pretty good friend.

He picked the tray up and decided to take his food downstairs to eat in the kitchen. Maybe he'd get lucky and find someone to chat with while he ate.

At the top of the landing he shifted the long tray to the side in order to find the first step. Though his vision was blocked by it's awkward length, he began the descent without much thought. Three steps down his foot caught on something, and he stumbled forward. With both hands clutching the food laden tray, he had only a split second to realize there was no way to stop the fall. He only had time to tuck his chin before painfully crashing down the staircase.

The clatter of dishes and a sharp yell were accompanied by several solid thumps on the staircase. Everyone in the house rushed to the foyer to see what had happened.

"Duo!" Dorothy exclaimed as she spied the young man lying on his back and unmoving at the base of the stairs.

She threw herself down on her knees next to him and gently touched his face. He blinked at her without appearing to actually see her. He opened his mouth, but didn't seem able to respond.

"Hold still until we can determine if you've broken anything. Do you hurt anywhere in particular?"

"Uff."

She looked at him with alarm. Holding her hand up before his face she asked, "How many fingers do you see?"

He blinked. "Huh?"

Atreus pulled out his cell phone. "I'll call the doctor."

TBC

Author's note: A heartfelt thanks to Leslie and Karina for their help in proofreading this story for my typos. You ladies are the greatest. Thanks for everyone's comments and reviews. All are very much appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

**Unexpected**

Dyna Dee

Part 9

Disclaimer: the standard, I don't own or make a profit from writing about these characters.

Never in her wildest dreams had Dorothy imagined Duo being hurt during their travels. She wrung her hands, standing in front of the bedroom door, worrying over his condition. The family doctor had proved to be a formidable man, refusing to let anyone in the room while he examined the injured man, even after insisting she remain at his side.

Finally, the door opened. The short, stocky, bald-headed doctor with a hook nose and bushy salt and pepper eyebrows stepped out, closing the door behind him. With a heavy accent and a deep sing-song voice he reported his patient's condition in English.

"Concussion, many contusions, a possible cracked rib, maybe two. Hard to say without X-ray. Same with wrist and ankle. Sprained or broken they may be, though I felt no break. He should go to hospital to be sure. He's lucky to not break his neck."

"I don't understand how this could have happened," she said, still bewildered by Duo's accident. "He's not the type to be clumsy, far from it, actually."

The doctor shrugged. "He walk down stairs with tray in hand, no doubt blocking view. It's... understandable."

She wanted to argue the point, stating that Gundam pilots were not typically accident prone. But common sense reared up and told her to keep that bit of information to herself. Instead, she asked a more practical question. "What needs to be done?"

The older man put a finger next to his right eye. "Watch him please, for two days. Hard to say how severe head trauma is, but he's got a hell of a knot on his forehead. Let him sleep, but wake him up every couple of hours for something to drink. No wine, only water. He most likely will have trouble keeping food in his belly."

He reached into the front of his doctor's bag and pulled out a small white envelope. "These are pills for pain. Must take with food or he'll be ill. Good for pain, not for the belly."

Dorothy took the envelope from him. "Will he be able to travel in a couple of days? We're traveling by sea."

The bald head tilted to the left questioningly. "Perhaps, if he remains in bed until then. I urge you strongly to obtain X-rays to verify any breakage of bones."

"Very well. I can see that he takes it easy and talk to him about X-rays."

"You girlfriend? Wife?" The doctor gave her a teasing smile.

"Ah... no, I'm his friend." She smiled, enjoying the warm feeling that rushed through her at being someone's friend again.

The doctor nodded and excused himself and indicating he was going to check on Athena and to pay his respects.

She moved to the bedroom door and cautiously opened it, hoping not to disturb Duo if he was sleeping. He was, as she expected, in bed, lying on his back. Several pillows kept his upper body and head slightly elevated. Bruises were already darkening his left shoulder and below the bandage wrapped around his ribs. The lump on his forehead was also purpling and painful looking. There spied more white tape surrounding his left wrist.

No doubt her traveling companion was going to be in a world of hurt for the next few days. The light, pale blue blanket covered the rest of Duo's body, keeping him decent. If it wasn't for the wrinkle between his eyebrows, she might have thought him asleep.

"Duo?' she whispered, and closed the door behind her before crossing the room to the bed.

"Hey," he replied softly in a hoarse voice, his eyes remaining closed.

"Are you in a lot of pain?"

He groaned and in a soft, pained voice whispered, "Hell yeah, but the doc gave me some kind of shot. It just hasn't kicked in yet."

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Fell down the damn stairs."

"Are you sure you weren't pushed?"

His bruised eyes remained closed, but his cinnamon colored eyebrows lowered as he asked, "What'r you talkin' about?"

"Don't you think it's a bit odd that two people visiting this home should take a fall down stairs in a matter of days? You believe Marta was pushed. I don't think it too farfetched to assume you might have been pushed also."

Slowly raising his uninjured hand, Duo rubbed at his temple, an indication his head was in considerable pain. "I only remember waking up from a nap and finding something outside the door. I... I can't remember what."

"It was probably the tray of food you were carrying.

"Yeah, that's what it was. Lunch, right? I assumed you brought it up for me. The doc said somethin' about a tray causing me to fall down the stairs. Don't remember any of that, but I'm pretty sure I didn't see anyone else upstairs with me. At least, I don't remember seeing or talking to anyone."

Dorothy sat on the edge of the bed and contemplated the situation. "I can't help but feel your accident was more than a coincidence. So the question begs to be asked, why would someone want to hurt you?"

Sounding pained, the injured man asked, "Does anyone here know about my past?"

"That you were a Gundam pilot?" She shook her head. "I don't think so. It's more likely we're making someone uncomfortable as we get closer to finding out who pushed Marta to her death."

After a long moment, Duo mumbled, "Maybe," then added. "Listen Dot, I can't think around this pain. I just gotta sleep, let the meds kick in."

"I'm sorry," she said, realizing her questions were taxing him. "Go ahead and rest. I'll check in on you from time to time and keep an eye out."

"Yeah," he replied, his voice barely a whisper. "Need someone watchin' my back for a while. Just 'til I'm on my feet again."

"You can count on me. Rest, and don't worry about anything."

Dorothy sat quietly at his bedside, pondering their conversation for a moment. After Duo's fall, she had to wonder if they were no longer safe in her friends' home. She vowed to herself to be more cautious, watch her step while asking questions and to keep an eye on her incapacitated friend until he recovered. Yes, treading carefully now was essential.

Not for a moment did she believe Duo Maxwell fell down the stairs without help. She'd watched the recordings of OZ intelligence of him during battle, and had been impressed by his ability to pilot his fearsome Gundam. Milliardo once told her that it took a great amount of strength, intelligence and agility to pilot mobile suits. She had never found any reason to doubt that statement.

Even in a weakened state and not in the best of health when they began their travels, Duo had seemed sure footed and agile. It just didn't seem likely he would stumble down a flight of stairs. Something had to have caused it, a person or thing. And that idea led to another.

She waited until Duo's breathing evened out, signaling he was sleeping deeply, then silently removed herself from the room. Slowly descending the stairs, she closely observed each step for a loose board, nail or anything that might have caused her friend to stumble. Nothing. As far as she could see the staircase was well maintained. There wasn't even a spot of dust to be found on them.

Stepping down to the main floor, she mentally reviewed the events of the day. Duo had been tasked with talking to the women of the house that morning. If he was pushed or tripped, it could mean he had said or done something to cause someone to react... violently. But who?

Taking a deep breath to steady her resolve, she walked determinedly through the house. Somehow, someway, she was going to find evidence connecting Marta's murder with Duo's tumble down the stairs. She sensed the two were related.

Unfortunately, the house was quiet and there didn't seem to be anyone around. She was left to wonder where everyone had gone.

Finally, in the kitchen, she found Kalista peeling vegetables, most likely for the evening meal. She was confident the hired help would know what was going on.

"Where is everyone?"

Kalista jumped slightly as if startled and put a hand to her chest as she turned to face Dorothy. The hand over her heart held a small paring knife. "Oh, frightened me you did."

Stepping closer, Dorothy tried her best to look apologetic. "I'm sorry. I was just wondering where everyone was. Are you the only one home?"

"The family go to home of Marta's parents. Things to discuss for the funeral."

Well, that was disappointing. Still, here was an opportunity to quiz the hired help a bit more.

"May I trouble you for a cup of tea? It's been a rather troubling day."

Kalista nodded and put down the knife and vegetable and set to filling up the tea kettle. "Is the young man well?" the older woman asked.

"He's banged up pretty badly, but he'll be alright, given time. I was just finishing up lunch with Calia and Alexios when it happened, but I'm not sure where everyone else was. Were you here in the kitchen?"

"I always in kitchen," the older woman replied tiredly as she turned back to her chore of peeling vegetables. "This is my place."

"Do you like working here, Kalista?"

"Fortunate am I to care for this family. They are like my own."

"Except for the fact that you don't sit down and eat at the table with them, or celebrate holidays or birthdays with the family, other than at a distance."

The older woman's back stiffened but she didn't reply. A sore point, Dorothy thought.

After a long moment, Kalista stiffly stated, "Good to me, the family is."

"Yes, I can see that. They are good people. Tell me, Kalista, what do you think of Mr. Maxwell?"

The woman looked over her shoulder and blinked, obviously taken aback by the sudden change of topic. "Your young man nice, but ask too many questions."

"It's just his way, I'm sorry if he bothered you."

A few moments of silence followed and then the tea pot and cup were placed on the table. Dorothy waited until the older woman sat down and poured them both a cup. Purposely fumbling with the full teacup, she intentionally spilled some of the hot liquid onto the tabletop.

"Dear me," she declared as she shot to her feet and motioned for Kalista to remain seated. "No, don't get up. I'll just get a towel and clean up my mess. I don't know why I'm so clumsy. It seems I'm always spilling something." Which wasn't true, but the older woman wouldn't know that.

Moving quickly, she went to the sink and grabbed a hand towel that lay neatly folded on the counter and returned to clean up the small amount of tea on the tabletop. "I'll just put this in the laundry."

From earlier visits, Dorothy knew that the utility room was just off the kitchen. It was also where the laundry, the pantry, sundry items and the trash were located. It also had a door that lead to the back patio. Dorothy carried the wet cloth with her as she walked to and entered the small room.

Once she was behind the door, she moved quickly and with purpose, tossing the damp cloth into a basket and located the garbage can. Opening the lid she did a visual inspection and her eyes lit up with satisfaction. There, barely visible, was a long, curling line, possibly fishing wire. Was this what caused Duo to fall down the stairs? If so, who had been stupid enough to discarded the incriminating evidence in the household waste bin?

Closing the lid, she paused to survey the room, noting the washer, dryer, broom, mop, and buckets sitting beside them. Inside the upper cabinet were detergent and household cleaning solutions. She pulled out the drawer of the lower cabinet and found some tools, two flashlights and some clothes pins. No empty spool of line to be found. Silently closing the drawer and cabinet, she sensed her time had run out. She didn't want to alert the cook to her suspicions.

Leaving off her investigation, she exited the room and shut the door behind her before returning to the table with a pleasant grin on her face. Kalista was still sitting in her chair, her dark eyes looked directly into her own, but she saw no suspicion in them.

"I've always liked this house," Dorothy began as she sat in her chair once again, modulating her tone of voice to indicate that nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. "The layout is both elegant and yet functional. And the utility room right off the kitchen is very convenient. Is it the same with most homes on this island?"

"In home of wealthy families, yes, it is the same. Not so much for those with little money," Kalista replied.

Bringing the cup to her lips, Dorothy asked before taking a sip, "Do you live here at the house?"

"I have a cottage, next to Tito's, not so far down the garden path."

"Tito? I don't think I've met him. Who is he?"

"He in charge of vineyard and olive grove."

Dorothy tried to recall the man, but couldn't remember ever hearing about him and certainly not meeting him. "So you and Tito share a cottage?"

The older woman's eyes widened and she blushed. "Tito and myself? Oh, no. He a young man, and very knowledgeable about trees and vineyards."

"Where are these cottages? I don't think I've seen them on my previous visits."

"Not far. Just down hillside."

"In which direction?"

The older woman pointed towards the back door, in the direction of the garden area. "You go down stairs, through garden, turn at bottom of path and behind the high wall is the cottage."

This was new information to her. In her youth, Dorothy had been all over the vineyard and olive grove, but realized she'd never had a reason to venture behind the tall rock wall that bordered the garden. She had no idea there were cottages housing the staff on the property.

"I know you must sometimes work until after dark, Kalista. Do you walk home on your own? And if so, aren't you afraid of falling and getting hurt, like Marta?"

"I carry hand light, step carefully."

"You mean a flashlight?"

The woman seemed to think about that question a moment before nodding. "Yes, flashlight."

"Did Marta have a flashlight with her the night of her death?"

The older woman shrugged her shoulders in reply as she stared into her empty tea cup.

Seeing as she wasn't going to get more of an answer, Dorothy continued. "I remember the small, very pretty purse she carried that evening. I doubt she could have carried a flashlight in it. Did she often walk home alone after visiting?"

"Sometime she walk home, when Atreus drink too much."

"What did she use for a flashlight on those nights?"

Kalista abruptly pushed back her chair and stood. "I don't understand so many questions. What care you about a light? Marta walk or no walk, what does it matter now?"

"Did she come to you for a flashlight that night?"

"No, no light. I clean kitchen and go home. I not know what she did or did not do. Please, I need you to go now, another meal I have to prepare."

The woman was obviously at her limit for questions. Still, she had to press just a little further. "Just one last question, Kalista. Did you take that tray of food up to my friends room?"

"He miss lunch, and so Athena ask for me to put food on tray. She carry it up to him on the way to her room."

The other woman turned away from her and walked towards the refrigerator, opening it and sticking her head in, signaling the conversation was now well and truly over.

Dorothy decided it was time to go. She'd been given enough information to keep her busy for a while.

"Thank you for talking with me, Kalista," she said to the woman. "I'll let you get back to work now." Her mind was still churning over possibilities as she left the kitchen and the older woman to her duties.

Walking through the house, Dorothy considered the bits of new information she'd picked up. She had more questions now than before talking to Kalista. It struck her as odd that Marta would try to make her way home though a dark garden. It could be that she knew her way well enough to venture home in the dark, but something nagged at her that there was more to the story.

And who was this other person, Tito? Had he been accounted for on the evening of Marta's death? Yet as soon as she thought of him, she dismissed him as a suspect in Duo's accident. She'd not seen hide nor hair of the man since their arrival. He would not have had time or the opportunity with a house full of people to set Duo up for a fall down the stairs. Besides, Kalista said it had been Athena's idea to bring the tray of food up to him. Such an act was typical of the matriarchs' character. Athena had always been an excellent hostess. Her guests never went without a meal or an comforts she could provide.

Duo was still asleep when she cracked opened the door to his bedroom to check on him. Letting herself in, she tip-toed over to the chair next to the bed and hoped she wasn't disturbing him.

"Dot?" So much for not disturbing him.

"I'm here. Go back to sleep."

He did, almost instantly, and in doing so he gave her time to mull over her list of suspects.

Kalista was now on her suspect list, mainly because of her accessibility to the garden and from what she'd found in the trash. Of course, everyone in the house had the same accessibility. Yes, it was possible, though a bit of a stretch, that the older woman could have had something to do with Marta's fall, and maybe Duo's as well.

Then there was Athena. Suggesting the tray of food be prepared for Duo, then carrying it upstairs herself gave her an opportunity to set up his fall. But what about motive? Suppose she had learned of Marta's plans to put off having a baby? It could have made her angry enough to push Marta off the garden steps.

Dorothy's stomach felt sour after having suspected Athena of such a callous crime. For years the woman had always been more than kind and loving to her. She just couldn't picture her harming anyone. It just wasn't in her nature.

Breathing deeply, she held the air in her lungs several long moments before letting it out slowly, clearing her mind as she did so. With her emotions now under control, she was ready to begin again.

Okay, other than Kalista and Athena, Atreus and Pieter were on the suspect list, as well as Ari, Duo's guess. All were plausible suspects and she knew each of them reasonably well. Jealously could have been a motive for any of the men. Yet knowing Ari as Atreus' loyal shadow from then they were kids, she just couldn't see him hurting Marta. And she seriously doubted Atreus would have harmed Marta. His grief for her loss appeared sincere, and she didn't doubt that it was. Pieter, she didn't know as well as his brothers, for he was quite a bit older than she. But she had never seen anything in the other man to indicate he'd hurt anyone. But then, neither did everyone else in the house.

Again, the mysterious gardener Kalista had mentioned came to mind. Tito was an unknown, thus worth investigating as a possible suspect. She'd have to ask a member of the family, or better yet, the inspector about him. She was certain the police would have spoken to the man if they'd known he was an employee.

Goodness, her head was beginning to ache from all the possibilities running through her mind. It seemed likely that someone in the house had caused Marta to fall to her death, purposely or not. Then that same person attempted the same with Duo when he got too close to figuring out what had happened. His "accident" had to mean they were on the right track and making someone very nervous.

At the two hour mark, she woke her injured friend up and insisted he take a couple of swallows of water. After complying, rather groggily, Duo promptly fell back to sleep.

The afternoon passed by slowly, with only the sound of her traveling companion's breathing and soft snores to fill the silence. To fill the time she began to think about the morning.

The entire family had made an appearance at breakfast, and she'd had an opportunity to speak with Pieter, and afterwards with Atreus, though only briefly. Ari had been absent that morning, so she could probably rule him out as a suspect in Duo's fall, at least for the moment. Alexios was the only one she hadn't had a chance to speak to. But she couldn't come up with a reason for why he or Calia would want Marta dead.

The afternoon wore on and the family returned home and took turns checking in on them, supplying refreshments as well as their concern. Their short visits were Dorothy's only distractions from the monotony of sitting hour after hour in the chair at Duo's bedside. She continued waking him as requested, giving him cool water to drink, and all the while she kept reviewing the list of suspects. And with each passing hour her frustration grew. There was no definitive proof for who might have caused Marta's death.

The evening sky began to darken and Duo remained deeply asleep, but Dorothy wasn't discouraged because she had finally come up with a plan. A gentle knock sounded on the door. She stood and briefly stretched, her back and legs were stiff from sitting so long. She walked to the door and opened it to find Calia on the other side, offering to sit with Duo so she could eat dinner downstairs and take a much needed break. It was an offer she was happy to accept.

Returning an hour later, she felt refreshed and ready to continue her vigil. But as the clock neared the nine o'clock hour, she was more than ready to call it a day.

Standing from her chair and stretching her back once again, she stepped up to the bed. Reaching out, she gently touched the injured man's arm. "Duo," she whispered. "I'm going to bed now. Shout out if you need anything, alright?"

He mumbled in reply, nothing very coherent, but she took it as an affirmative answer. She could only hope her traveling companion would be better by morning, or at least more coherent. She had finally come up with a plan and was very anxious to tell Duo about it and have him advise her. In the meantime she would return to her room, get a good night's sleep and stay out of trouble and danger until morning, or so she hoped.

She didn't sleep as well as she'd hoped, her mind unable to shutdown and rest. She had tossed and turned for what seemed half the night before finally dozing off, then waking up again as the first light of dawn crept through the balcony windows. Unable to fall back to sleep, she got out of bed, showered and dressed for the day, then made her way back to Duo's room.

She knocked and vaguely heard a male voice answer. Opening the door, she found Duo's room to be as bright as her's had been. The indirect light from the windows lent a bright and cheery feeling to the room. It also helped to dispel some of the worry and dark thoughts that had plagued her during the night. She smiled with relief in discovering Duo awake and looking relatively alert.

"How are you feeling this morning?" she asked as she crossed the room to stand at his bedside.

Duo might have been awake and alert, but he still looked awful, with a large bruised bump on his forehead and two black eyes. He replied dryly, "Other than stupid? I feel like I was beat up by someone welding a pool stick."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. I hope you know how fortunate you are not to have broken your neck. I spoke with the doctor yesterday and he said you should remain in bed for a couple of days. I do hope you'll be ready to travel shortly after the funeral, which will no doubt be held in a couple of days."

"Maybe by then the brutal little bastard bashing the inside of my head with a sledge hammer will be nothing more than a figment of my imagination."

She grinned, entertained by the description. "Hate to break it to you, Duo, but he already is a figment of your imagination."

"Just sayin'"

"Are you up to talking for a little bit?"

"Only if you can scrounge up something for breakfast, and some kind of pain pill. I'm starving and hurting all over."

"I have the pills the doctor left for you. He told me you need to take them after eating, so I'll have to go in search of some breakfast as soon as possible."

And then another thought came to her. Feeling a bit uncomfortable offering to help with something so personal, she made an effort to push past her embarrassment. So she looked him in the eyes and asked, "Do you need help getting to the facilities?"

His face, mottled by bruising, was still capable of reflecting shock. "Are you actually offering to help me use the bathroom?"

"I... I wasn't exactly volunteering, just asking out of politeness," she stammered. She could feel her face warming from embarrassment.

He chuckled, though the sound was a bit pained. "Thanks for the offer, but don't worry about it, Dot. I managed to get there myself, though I gotta say it was an excruciating process and damn embarrassing. Don't want to try it again until I'm really desperate."

Well, that was relief.

"The doctor was fairly insistent that you should be X-rayed to make sure you don't have any broken bones."

Duo moved his limbs experimentally, his face wincing from pain. "Nah, nothing's broken. I've had plenty of breaks before and these feel different. Painful, but not broken painful."

"Are you sure? I'll be happy to cover the expense of the X-rays, if that's the problem."

He looked at her as if the idea hadn't even occurred to him. "I forgot I don't have health coverage any longer. Guess I'll have to be more careful in the future."

"You're covered as long as you're with me," she solemnly declared.

He looked embarrassed. "Thanks, Dot. But honestly, I don't think anything's broken, just messed up a bit."

She didn't argue with him. She respected him as a man of experience and more than capable of making his own decisions. Granted, he did have a giant bump in the middle of his forehead that might affect his reasoning, but what was she to do? She could only keep an eye on him and hoped he knew what he was talking about.

She left the room few minutes later, with the reassurance of returning shortly with food. After that, they would talk.

Quietly shutting the door behind her, she moved towards the staircase and paused at the top of the stairs. She studied the first couple of steps, making sure there wasn't a trip wire on any of them.

She glanced to her left and then to the right, making sure no one was around. She then listened to the sounds of the house and finding it to be very quiet. Determining it safe, she carefully stepped down a couple of stairs, then knelt down to examine the top three more closely, hoping to find some evidence for how the fishing line had been anchored. Sure enough, on the third stair down from the top landing she discovered a barely noticeable, tiny pinprick-sized hole in the wood trim, just a few inches above the stair. It looked like a small nail or push pin had held the near invisible line in place. Duo probably dislodged whatever the anchor had been when he tripped and fell. She reasoned the line was probably removed from the scene when everyone else in the house had focused the attention on the injured man at the bottom of the stairs.

Unfortunately, her focus had been centered entirely on Duo as well. Who in the house would want to deliberately hurt him? The answer was easy: The person who caused Marta to fall and break her neck.

If the plan she'd come up with the evening before worked, she would know soon enough who the guilty party was. And with that thought she turned towards the kitchen, ready to twist some arms for answers, if she had to. She was going to get to the bottom of the two mysteries, even if it cost her the long, cherished friendship with the Stephanopolis family.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**Unexpected**

Dyna Dee

Part 10

Not surprisingly, Dorothy found Kalista in the kitchen, working. The wonderful aroma of baked bread filled the air and caused her stomach to rumble from hunger. The household cook stood in front of the sink wearing a button-down, white cotton blouse with short sleeves. Beneath the pristine white apron she wore was a dark paisley skirt that ended just below her knees. Her dark hair, laced with strands of white, was pulled tightly into a bun at the back of her head.

"The kitchen smells wonderful, Kalista," Dorothy said as she stepped into the room.

The older woman turned and gave her a small smile at the compliment, then pointed to the towel covered lump on the table. From the size of it, Dorothy guessed there were at least two loaves of bread cooling beneath the cloth.

"I finish baking earlier. The family has eaten, Miss, but food have I saved for you and your young man upstairs."

Kalista moved from the sink, drying her hands on a clean white towel, and bent to open the oven. Slipping her hands into oven mitts, she removed two plates covered with foil.

"Thank you. You're very kind to set something aside for us," Dorothy said as the cook put the plates on thick mats already set out on the kitchen table. "If you don't mind, I'll take them up to my friend's room. He's awake and hungry."

"He is well?" Marta asked as she reached under a counter to remove a long tray.

"He's a bit better this morning, but it will take time for his body to heal. The fall hurt him badly, but he'll recover."

The woman nodded without looking in her direction as she moved towards the refrigerator. "That is good. Something to drink? Some juice, perhaps?"

In a matter of a few moments the plates of food were carefully placed on the tray and accompanied with fresh fruit and juice. Then Kalista removed the towel and cut two large slices from the freshly baked bread. For a moment Dorothy worried about the weight of the full tray and whether or not she might drop it trying to carry it upstairs. She breathed in the wonderful smelling breakfast and her stomach growled. Heavy or not, she was not going to miss out on such an delightful breakfast. Taking a deep breath, buoying up her resolve, she grabbed the side handles of the tray and lifted with a bit of effort and an unladylike grunt.

Dear lord, the tray was as heavy as it looked! Yet aided by pure determination and hunger she managed to carry the breakfast tray through the house and to the staircase without dropping it. Step by careful step she climbed the stairway and finally made it to the second floor and to Duo's bedroom door. Knowing he wasn't in any shape to open the door for her, there was no alternative but to do it herself. She set the tray down, opened the door and made sure it wouldn't close, then bent to pick up the heavy tray again.

Good heavens, there was that embarrassing, hideous grunt again. Never in her life had she made such an unladylike sound twice in a matter of minutes. And why in the world did the tray feel heavier than it did a few minutes ago? Where was Ander when she needed him? He always did the heavy lifting for her.

Straightening up and feeling quite triumphant about not spilling a drop, she pushed back her shoulders and used her shoulder to push past the door. As she entered the room, she forced herself to smile and hoped it didn't look as strained as it felt. Duo, she noted, was still awake, his head turned towards her, his eyes focused on either her or the tray of food, she wasn't certain which.

"Breakfast," she cheerfully announced, then used her foot to shut the door behind her. She moved towards the bed, aiming for the bedside table, and staggered a bit under the weight of the tray. Duo mumbled something, and she wondered if he was in pain or anticipating breakfast. She supposed it could be either or both.

What a wonderful relief to her aching arms and hands to finally set the tray down on the bedside table. She sat on the edge of the bed and shook out her arms and the strained muscles before taking the opportunity to study the injured man. In all honesty, Duo looked worse today than he had after the fall. His face was swollen in places and covered with darkening bruises. What a pity, she thought, to have such a good looking face damaged.

The injured man's eyes shifted to the contents on the tray. He grimaced and held up his wrapped wrists. "I'm starving, Dot, but don't think I can manage a fork."

"Not to worry. I'll feed you." She knew it was the right thing to do, offering to help, but wondered how competent she would be at performing such a task. It wasn't like she'd ever had to play nurse before.

He sighed heavily and muttered, "This is humiliating."

She took a closer look at him, noting the pinched areas around his eyes and mouth, signs he was in a considerable amount of pain. No doubt he was putting up a stoic front. She considered how difficult this situation must be for him. Duo Maxwell was a proud, very capable man, so not being able to take care of himself is most likely a humbling experience.

"It's only humiliating if you choose to see it that way," she insisted. "Did no one ever help you when you were hurt during the war? And don't tell me you weren't. No one came out of that business unscathed, physically or emotionally."

His answer seemed to come grudgingly. "Yeah, I needed help sometimes. If they were around, the other pilots and some sympathizers patched me up, but never for any reason as lame as falling down some stairs."

"You didn't just fall, Duo. You were tripped."

His bruised and swollen eyes widened slightly. "You're sure?

"Yes."

"You have proof?"

"Yes, but I left it where I found it, in the garbage container in the laundry room. I didn't want to raise any suspicions at this point. It's a strand of clear fishing line, and there is a hole where something held it in place on the stairs. It would have been nearly impossible for you to see it, especially with a tray in your hands blocking your view."

His eyes narrowed. "Who did it?"

"I'm not sure," she answered. "Anyone in the house might have grasped the opportunity to take you out of the investigation after seeing the tray of food outside your door. Oh, and from Kalista I learned it was Athena who suggested she prepare the lunch tray for you. She carried it up the stairs herself on the way to her own room. Honestly, I don't see that as a suspicious act on Athena's part as much as her being the good hostess, seeing to our comfort. As for the line that tripped you, everyone in the house has access to the utility room, which was probably where it came from in the first place."

She suddenly remembered their food and that it was most likely getting cold. Pulling the folded white hand towel off the top of one of the plates, the heavenly aroma of bread, eggs and fried vegetables filled the air. Using a fork to cut a small piece of the omelet, she pierced it and then placed it at Duo's lips. He opened his mouth just enough for her to place it inside. Hum, not so difficult, she told herself.

"Eat while the food is hot and I will tell you about the rest of my conversation with Kalista and of the mysterious Tito."

She figured Duo must truly be starving as he didn't utter one word of complaint about her feeding him. In fact, he didn't speak at all as accepted the a few more bites of egg, pinches of bread, and juice. He passed on the fruit. She noticed he chewed his food slowly before swallowing, and wondered if his teeth had been damaged. She will insist he visit a dentist, if that is the case.

By the time she finished relating her conversation and observations, Duo had eaten all he could stomach, leaving more than half the food on the plate. She gave him a pill from out of the white envelope that contained the pain medication the doctor had left on the dresser.

At Duo's urging, she lifted the towel from the second plate and began eating her own breakfast. He lay back on his pillow, patiently waiting for her to finish eating and for the pain pill to kick in.

"We're not any closer to finding out who pushed Marta," he said. "But my so-called accident suggests someone's afraid we're about to discover their identity."

"My thoughts exactly," she said before putting another small bite of egg into her mouth. After swallowing, she asked, "What do you think our next step should be?"

"There is no 'we', Dottie," he replied wearily, closing his eyes for a moment and seeming to deflate a bit. "There's no way I can conduct an investigation from this bed, and it looks like I'm stuck here for at least a couple of days."

She put her fork down and lifted the glass of juice to take a sip, readying herself to tell him of the idea that had come to her the night before. Returning the glass to the tray, she leaned forward, hoping to get his approval and enlist a bit of help.

"I have an idea for how we can flush out the guilty party, but I need you to make a phone call to set it in motion." She spent the next few minutes explaining her idea to him. Once she finished, she sat quietly and waited for his response. Finally, he gave a very slight nod of his head.

"It might draw the killer out," he said thoughtfully. "But are you sure you want to do it this way? It might cost you your friendship with the family."

She nodded, understanding the risks, yet hoped losing these dear people as her friends wouldn't be the price she'd have to pay for implementing her plan. "Maybe so, but I have to believe it's more important to find out who might have pushed Marta to her death."

"You're right," he agreed solemnly. "I just wanted you to understand the possible consequences. Alright, get me a phone and I'll talk to Inspector Dukakis while I'm still conscious. I'm feeling groggy and will probably pass out in a minute or two, so I'll have to keep the conversation short and to the point. Maybe you could bring him up to date about my trip down the stairs? He'll have to be in on this for your plan to work."

The entire Stephanopolis family answered the police inspector's request to meet in the dining room at noon. Ari had also been summoned, as was Kalista and the mysterious Tito.

This was the first opportunity Dorothy had to study the gardener. She thought him to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties. He wasn't tall, but had the typical olive complexion and dark eyes most Greeks had. She supposed he could be considered handsome, though he paled in comparison to the Stephanopolis men and couldn't hold a candle to Duo. That is, Duo in good form. Tito, dressed in dusty jeans and a dark blue t-shirt, wore a worried expression as he stood next to Kalista. He'd obviously been working when he'd been summoned to the house.

Athena was the last to enter the room and her boys all stood to offer her their chairs. She selected the one nearest the door and sat down, looking tired and apprehensive.

Turning her attention to the inspector, she spoke solemnly in Greek. Dorothy followed along easily, "I am afraid to ask why you have called us together, Nicol. My heart says it cannot be good news."

"You are right, Athena," the inspector said looking grave. "What I have to say is not good. My investigation and medical team together confirm that Marta's death was not caused by her simply tripping on the stairs. It appears someone pushed her."

Everyone in the room seemed to sway back with shock. Then Atreus stepped forward, his eyes red and puffy from grieving, his chest heaving.

"No!" he vehemently declared. "No one in this family would wish harm to Marta."

"Yet someone was involved in her death," the inspector calmly countered. "The evidence is irrefutable."

The room fell silent as the family absorbed this bit of news. Dorothy stood by the door, having a good view of the room and the faces of almost everyone present. Their expressions displayed various levels of shock and denial. How she wished Duo were here. She could use another pair of eyes for observing any signs of guilt or fear.

Inspector Dukakis cleared his throat before continuing. "From interviews conducted with those present the evening before Marta's body was found, along with those working on the property, I have come to the only possible conclusion. I'm sorry to bring more grief upon your family, Athena, but I'm arresting Atreus for the murder of his fiancé, Marta Boosalis."

The room exploded. Atreus and his two brothers loudly disclaimed the charge and the women were openly crying. Athena flew out of her chair and rushed to her youngest son, throwing her arms around him.

"No, no, Nico!" she cried, the anguish in her voice was enough to break anyone's heart, Dorothy thought, and felt tears of sympathy blurring her eyes. She quickly wiped them away, not wanting to miss anything.

Athena continued. "You cannot possibly believe my son would hurt the woman he loved. He is a good, decent man."

"I'm sorry, Athena, but he had opportunity and motive."

"Motive! What motive?" Athena demanded as tears coursed down her face. The usual grace and composure she bore naturally had disappeared from the family's matriarch as she frantically tried to defend her youngest child.

"There is cause, and it will come out in the trial," he replied.

"No, no, no!" the elderly woman cried out again in denial, still tightly gripping her son. "You will not take him, Nicol. You and I have been friends since childhood. Will you not believe me when I tell you he is innocent?"

"If he is innocent, then who is guilty?"

Even amidst the turmoil, his soft spoken words were heard by all and the room quieted enough to hear Athena's soft reply. "I did it. I pushed her. Arrest me if you will, but you will not take my son."

"No, mama," Alexios said firmly. "You cannot admit to a crime just to save Atreus."

"I will not let Nicol take my son to jail," she stated with a look of firm resolution etched on her face and in her voice.

"Alexi is right, Mama," Atreus said softly, stroking his mother's back as she held him. "I did not harm Marta, and that will be proven in court. I'll not have you put in a cell just because you are trying to save me. What kind of son would I be to let you do such a thing?"

"I can not bear this," Athena said in a quivering voice. She buried her face into her son's neck and wept.

Dorothy watched as the family crowded around, trying to comfort each other. Her own heart ached for them. Her gaze then shifted to the two people rooted to the spot where they had initially stood at the beginning of the meeting. Kalista and Tito remained next to each other. The older woman looked worried, wringing her hands together in front of her chest. Tito looked uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to another while taking in the scene before him.

Dorothy moved slowly in their direction and stood next to Kalista. In a quiet and gentle voice she asked, "Is there anything you can say that might spare the family more grief?"

Kalista turned to face her, and Dorothy noted the tears sliding down the weathered cheeks. "Neither Atreus nor Athena at top of stairs with Marta."

"Did you see who it was?"

Slowly, reluctantly, Kalista nodded her head, then buried her face in her hands and silently wept.

"Inspector?" Dorothy called out, immediately catching the man's attention. She nodded toward the weeping woman. "You have a witness."

Leaving the group, he walked over to the three in the corner. "Is this true, Kalista? You witnessed what happened that night?"

Again the woman nodded and the room fell silent with the exception of Athena's attempts to compose herself. Inspector Dukakis turned to the group behind him. "Let us all sit down and hear what she has to say, shall we?"

It took only a few moments before everyone found a seat and only then did the inspector begin to gently question the housekeeper.

"If you please, Kalista, tell me what you saw that evening."

It was obvious the older woman was still struggling to compose herself as she tearfully began.

"I shut off the lights in the kitchen and left the house to return to my cottage," she began, her speech much more fluid in her native tongue. "I paused to look at the stars. The sky was so clear and beautiful, the moon so small in sky, the stars so bright. I hear voices, hushed, so I step back into the shadows. I saw Marta and her yellow gown in the starlight. Then I realized she was not with Atreus, but with Pieter."

Every eye in the room turned to the oldest son. He sat still as stone, his face unreadable as he stared at the housekeeper.

"Pieter?" Atreus asked with a look of confusion on his face.

"Go on," the inspector coaxed.

"I did not hear everything that was said at first, but then Pieter's voice rose. He seemed very upset. Marta tried to put her arms around him, but he steped back, hands up. Then she said, 'This baby is yours'."

A collective gasp sounded from the room's occupants, including Dorothy's. This was a turn neither she nor Duo had expected. She looked first to Pieter for his reaction and noted his face was dark with anger. Shifting her gaze to Atreus, her heart ached for him as he stared at his brother with an expression of hurt and betrayal.

Abruptly jumping to his feet, Atreus faced his brother and demanded, "Is this true? Did you sleep with her?"

Pieter bowed his head and folded his arms over his chest. After a long tense moment he said, "Forgive me, Atreus. She pursued me until I finally gave in."

"Oh God," the younger man moaned as he bowed himself in half, gripping his head, his fingers twisting through his dark hair.

"Did Pieter push Marta?" the inspector continued, his attention fixed on the only witness.

"No. He turned and walked away. Marta stood there for a long time, maybe thinking he'd come back. But it was Aristotle who next came out of the shadows."

The occupants of the room collectively turned their heads to look at Ari with shock. The man looked shell-shocked, as if he were tied down on the track of an oncoming train as Marta continued.

Kalista continued. "He told her he overheared what was said and that he was going tell all to Atreus."

"And how did Marta react to that?"

"She laughed and dared him to do what he would. She did not care, she said, Atreus' love for her was so great he would not believe she would do such a thing. She will tell him the child is his, and he would believe this lie."

"And Aristotle's response?"

"He called her a bad name, and said he always knew she was not good for Atreus. Marta mocked him, saying she knew he wanted Atreus for himself, but he never would have him for Atreus not like him, he did not love men."

Gasps filled the room from that revelation, and then everyone fell silent once more while all eyes remained on Ari, who was looking at his best friend, silently pleading for him to understand.

"Tell me you didn't push Marta." Atreus spoke softly, his voice strained with emotion.

Ari, visibly shaken, replied, "I didn't. I swear it to you."

The tense atmosphere continued to fill the room as its occupants waited for the questioning to continue. Inspector Dukakis calmly turned to the older woman once again and in a gentle voice asked, "What happened next, Kalista?"

"Mr. Ari left and Marta stayed there, fists clenched like this." She fisted both hands tightly and lifted them for all to see. "And she started to pace the length of the patio. When she turned she saw me hiding in the shadows."

"How did she react to seeing you?"

Kalista's red eyes began to well up with a fresh batch of tears. "She grabbed my arms and pulled me into the moon's light. 'You're spying on me,' she said. I told her I did not mean to. I was on my way home when she first spoke to Pieter." The older woman shook her head. "She was angry, very angry."

Kalista finally peered around the inspector to look at Athena. "Forgive me, I am so sorry. Never did I mean for this to happen. You are my family and I love you."

Athena looked to be in shock, but her eyes softened as she returned the gaze of her long-time friend and servant and gave her a nod of her head.

"Tell us everything, dear friend."

Kalista swallowed and made an effort to compose herself, and after a few deep breaths she began again. "Marta said to me, 'If you speak of what you overheard, you will be out of job and cottage.' She said, once married, she would have the power to remove me from both. I told her she was a bad woman, to betray Atreus with his brother. No good woman would do such a thing. She hit me then, with her little purse. Right here," she pointed to the side of her head. "Something heavy was in it and it hurt. The purse flew from her hand and landed somewhere down path. Her anger grew."

Kalista then moved her hands up her upper arms. "She pinch me here, on arms, and I fought to get away. We tripped over each other's feet. I stumbled and fell to my hands and knees. I looked up to see Marta coming at me. I thought she was going to kick me. Her face was so full of rage it made me afraid for my life." Beginning to cry in earnest again, Kalista struggled to continue. "I could not move in time to avoid her, so I bowed, like this." She bent at the waist and put her hands over her head as if to protect herself. "I did not see what happen. I...I think she fell over me. I do not know, but over my back and down the stairs she went."

Chancing another glance at Athena she declared beseechingly "I did not push her, this I swear on my family's honor."

"And what about Mr. Maxwell?" the inspector asked and Dorothy held her breath. "Did you put the fishing line on the stairs with the intent to hurt him?"

"I'm sorry," the cook cried out before covering her face with age-spotted hands, she began to weep inconsolably. "I'm so sorry."

A half hour later, Dorothy, standing at Duo's bedside, repeated all that had transpired downstairs in his absence.

"Did the inspector believe Kalista?" he asked.

"He did. He escorted her down to the police station to get her statement, but I don't think she'll be charged with murder. However, her intent to harm you is another matter. I'm not sure what charge they'll come up with for that."

"What she did wasn't right," he stated with a frown. "But I don't wish the old lady any harm. If I had my way, I'd ask them to let her go."

"I'm not sure anyone has a choice in the matter, but I'll speak to the inspector, if I see him again."

"How's the family taking this?"

Looking grim, she shook her head. "Not well. Atreus is rightfully angry with Pieter, while Alexios and Calia are trying their best to be supportive of both brothers and acting as peacemakers. I think it will take some time for the family to move past this. Athena is understandably shaken, but relieved her sons aren't being arrested. She has an indomitable spirit that I'm certain will help her to recover quickly. This event will not destroy the family."

"That makes me feel a bit better," Duo said before taking a sip of the cool water she'd brought up to the room with her.

"That's good, because now that the case is solved, we no longer need to intrude on the family. Are you up to going back to the ship?"

"Only if you carry me," he replied seriously.

"How about a wheelchair?"

"How about you ask for another day or two before I have to move? Have you ever injured your ribs or had a busted up face, Dottie?"

"No, can't say that I have."

"Then trust me when I say it's damn uncomfortable."

She stared at him while contemplating their options. "I'll ask Athena if we can stay until after the funeral. I think it only proper we attend, that is, if you're able. Otherwise I'll go on my own."

"Do they have a day and time scheduled?

"Saturday morning, five days from now."

"Five days. I'm sure I'll feel better by then."

"Good, because I plan to sail immediately after the service."

Duo remained in bed for the next four days. On the day of the funeral, and with the aid of half a dose of pain medication, he dressed in black trousers and white shirt Dorothy had retrieved from the ship. When they were ready to leave, she presented him with a rented wheelchair. He grudgingly agreed to use it, then had to put up with her pushing him around because his sprained wrists hadn't healed sufficiently to push himself. They decided to travel separately from the Stephanopolis family to the funeral, following behind in a taxi to the church where both families and their many friends on the hill attended.

The service was attended by several hundred people, most of them looking similar with dark hair and olive complexions. But it wasn't until they were leaving at the end of the somber service that a very recognizable blond man spotted them and pushed through the crowd to catch up with the two travelers.

With eyes wide with shock, the Winner heir acknowledged Dorothy with a nod and then blurted out, "Duo, what's going on? Why are you with Dorothy, and what in the world has happened to you? Why are you in a wheelchair? You look... oh my... not so good."

Knowing his friend was struggling and spectacularly failing to be tactful, Duo answered, "It's kind of a long story, buddy, but this probably isn't the time or place to lay it all out for you."

"But Duo, you've been missing for weeks. Everyone's been frantic, thinking the worst, and here I find you most unexpectedly and you're a... a mess. Were you ambushed?"

"I was, by a little old lady wearing an apron." The startled look on the blond man's face absolutely made his day. He went on to explain, if only briefly. " She was trying to protect her employers from my probing questions by helping me fall down some stairs."

The worry in the blond man's eyes turned suddenly into mirth. "This sounds like a story I'd like to hear. Can I buy you lunch?"

Dorothy interjected, "I've already ordered lunch on my ship, Mr. Winner. We would be pleased if you would join us before we sail out with the evening tide."

Quatre's eyes widened even more as his gaze went from Dorothy to Duo. "A ship? There's more to this story then your fall, I'm guessing." His smile was brilliant as he replied to Dorothy's invitation. "I'd love to. Thank you for the invitation, Miss Catalonia. It's fairly obvious that Duo and I have a bit of catching up to do, and this presents a wonderful opportunity for that to happen."

"What brings you here, Quat?" Duo asked. "Are you a friend of one of the families here?"

"Yes," the blond answered, his smile fading. "My father conducted business with the late Mr. Stephanopolis, and I was privileged to spend some of my time off from school here on Santorini with their family. I knew Marta and Atreus best, but had always enjoyed the warmth of Athena's mothering."

"Small world," Duo said, amazed by the connection. "Dorothy has a similar story. Funny, how you guys never met before the wars."

Dorothy looked out over the thinning crowd and changed the subject. "Let's bid our farewells to the Boosalis and Stephanapolis families. I've already had our luggage placed in the car, so we'll leave for the dock immediately after. Will you ride with us, Mr. Winner?"

The other man nodded, "That would be wonderful. I dismissed the cab that brought me to the service, so a ride down the mountain is appreciated."

"Good. Let's go."

Dorothy led the way, wheeling her companion towards the front doors of the chapel, worrying all the while that Mr. Winner might try to talk Duo out of continuing their vacation.

Quatre quickly intercepted her and asked to take over the wheelchair She complied, as it was the ladylike thing to do. She led the two young men in the direction of the grieving parents, to pay their final respects to the families.

Dorothy excused herself shortly after the excellent lunch had been eaten, stating her need to speak with Captain Mackenzie about their departure.

Quatre politely thanked her for the meal and said goodbye, explaining that he would be leaving shortly to catch his flight.

Both men watched her walk away, and Duo suspected she was giving him time to speak with his friend alone. He wasn't sure if he was grateful or not for the opportunity. He suspected Quatre was not very happy with him at the moment.

The moment Dorothy disappeared, Quatre turned and gave his friend his full attention. "Alright, Duo, spill. What are you doing traveling with Dorothy when you should be trying to get your health back?"

He sighed with resignation. "I suppose you heard about my meeting with Une?"

"Yes, from about four different sources, including Heero. Like everyone else, he's worried sick about you, not knowing if some misfortune caused your disappearance or if you left on your own. Why haven't you called anyone to let us know your plans?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, he definitely felt the beginning of yet another headache coming on. "I don't know, Quat. I was just so damn tired. Une was right, you know; I was a physical wreck, completely worn out, washed up, and useless."

"You are not washed up or useless," the blond insisted. "You simply exhausted yourself." And this was why Quatre was such a good friend; he was always fiercely loyal and his defender. "After a few weeks, you'll be back to your usual good health and ready to work again."

Leaning forward, Duo's gaze locked onto the blond's sky-blue eyes. "Listen, Quat, I'm not sure I want to go back, especially to Preventers. I... I just can't keep up with Heero and there's no one else I want to be partnered with. Dorothy surprised the shit out of me, inviting me along on this vacation of hers. But I accepted and decided to take this time away from everything to re-think my future as well as regain my health. I was actually doing a lot better until I fell down the stairs."

"My invitation for you come to L4 and work for me stands," his friend replied earnestly. The grin Quatre wore made it clear he was excited by the idea.

"I'll keep that in mind," Duo replied and then suddenly the blond's grin faded.

"What about Heero?"

"Don't know what to think about Heero. Whatever I do I'm sure he'll be fine."

"But what about you, Duo? Can you really walk away from him?"

Unable to meet the other's gaze, he looked out across the water as a wave of sadness enveloped him.

"I think I already have."

When he looked back, his friend was clutching his chest, just over his heart, and sadness lined his handsome face.

"Sorry," he said guiltily. He knew how sensitive Quatre was to the emotions of those he was close to.

"Believe me, I know exactly how you feel," his friend replied and the look of misery on his face confirmed the truth of that statement.

"Have you heard from Trowa lately?"

Quatre shook his head, looking sad. "He's still with the circus and they travel a lot. But I think he's happy enough. We talk once in a while."

With a heavy sigh, he said, "What a sad pair we are, Quat. We both fell for a couple of guys who don't seem to have the desire or ability to return our feelings."

The blond simply nodded in agreement.

"You ever wondered why we never fell for each other?"

Combing fingers through his silky hair, Quatre answered. "By the time we met, our hearts were already engaged elsewhere."

"Stupid ass hearts."

"Yes, stupid ass hearts."

Their eyes met and the two friends couldn't help but grin at each other. A moment later, they began to laugh, though Duo's laughter was stilted with pain. He clutched his sides, struggling not to laugh and hurt himself further. After several minutes had passed, they both wiped the tears from their eyes.

"Ah, Duo," his friend sighed. "I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. Say you'll come to L4 and bring some happiness to my routinely dull life."

"I haven't felt good enough to laugh in a long while, Quat. But listen, I appreciate the invite. But honestly, I need some time to find my way, decided what I want to do with my life."

His friend looked at him with resignation. "I understand, really I do. You can't blame me for wanting to have you close."

"No, I don't blame you. A part of me wants to say yes, but I know I can't travel to space wounded like I am, and that I haven't got my head on straight yet, but I'm getting there."

A beep sounded from Quatre's jacket. He reached in and pulled out his cell phone to check the display. "I have to go. I'm going to stop off in Sanq for a day or two; visit our friends. Would you mind if I tell them your situation? That you're traveling with Dorothy?" Replacing the phone inside his jacket, Quatre stood and picked up the black suit jacket he'd taken off earlier and slung it over his shoulder. He looked to Duo like he'd just stepped out of a men's fashion magazine. So poised, handsome and not a wrinkle in sight.

"I can't ask you to lie for me, so sure, why not?"

The blond nodded. "Promise you'll keep in touch?"

"Yeah, I promise."

"Once a week?"

"Hum... that might be hard to keep, given our mode of travel. How about I contact you whenever we dock?"

"Even better," the blond grinned as he moved forward and bent to carefully and loosely embrace his friend still sitting on the lounge chair. "Take care, Duo. Call me if you need anything, anything at all."

"Thanks, Quat. I will."

They paused and gazed fondly at each other one last time. The warmth and friendship they shared passed between them before the blond turned and walked off the ship.

Dorothy returned ten minutes later and sat in the chair next to him. With a look of concern on her face she asked, "Are you okay?"

"What, don't I look okay?" he asked back. Then chuckled. "Forget that. I know I look like shit. Still, considering everything, I'm good. It was great seeing Quat again. Small world, huh? Who would have thought he knew the Stephanopolis family and had stayed there sometimes, just like you?"

"Small world indeed," she replied thoughtfully. "We must have had differing vacation schedules, because in all my visits to Santorini, our paths never crossed."

They sat for a moment before he spoke up. "So, are we ready to sail?"

"Yes, as soon as the tide comes in," she answered. "Are you sure you're up to this? I know the doctor cleared you, but if you're not ready, we could stay in port another couple of days."

He smiled at her, grateful to know she was still watching his back. "Nah, I'm good. I've got a couple of guys waiting on me hand and foot, and you have my back. I say let's sail and get on to the next adventure."

"Adventure. That's what this is, isn't it?"

"Well, our stay here was definitely not boring."

She grinned. "Not in the least." And indeed, she could hardly wait to see what adventure was in store for them in the next port.

"By the way..." He reached into the jacket to retrieve the item he'd gotten from his room on a bathroom break. "I think I've had these long enough." The black jewelry box containing her grandmother's earrings lay on the flat of his outstretched hand.

She reached out for it, but paused just before picking it up. "You're sure? I recall our deal was that giving them back would mean that you trust me."

In spite of the bruised skin surrounding his eyes, there was a twinkle in them as he grinned at her and answered, "Absolutely."

She snatched up the velvet box as if she were afraid he might change his mind, and cradled it to her chest. An overwhelming feeling of happiness filled her and caused an unusually wide and toothy grin to make an appearance. And that goofy smile remained on her face for the rest of the day.

The End... maybe to be continued?

Thank you to the readers and commenters of this story. This was my first attempt at a murder mystery. I don't know that I actually pulled it off, but it was fun writing it. Thanks so much to Karina and Leslie. Such dear and good friends to look this over for me and encouraging me to post, regardless of my hesitation to do so. Like I said earlier, I'm not sure when I'll find time to continue the travel adventures of Duo and Dorothy, so if anyone has some ideas and would like to try their hand at writing one, let me know and I can share some of my ideas with you. This is a friendship story between Duo and Dorothy, with the other pilots making an appearance now and then. Anyone who has read my stories knows of my favorite pairings, and that the direction I'd like this to go, but down the road. Thanks again for reading. I'll have a Christmas story of sorts to share in a week or two.


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